Entre Chien et Loup: 'At Dusk'
by RyuuACey
Summary: WARNING: Contains minor spoilers to HBP, but next few chapters will contain more plot based ones. Summary: Albus Dumbledore restarts the Triwizard Tournament, bringing Remus Lupin, Beauxbatons student, snout to snout with Sirius Black. Fur will fly.
1. Prologue: Etre au Four et au Moulin

**! SPOILER WARNING!**  
As of 7/17, this story contains elements revealed and discussed in The Half-Blood Prince. At the moment, this is limited to changing of names as appropriate, but by Part 4 (Chapters 8 and 9), there will be major plot-related elements available in this story. I apologize; I originally planned to keep most of the new material out, but...well, when you read it, you'll understand.

* * *

Title: Entre Chien et Loup (At Dusk)  
Part: 0: Etre au Four et au Moulin  
Author: Ryuu-ACey  
Archive: Azkaban's Lair, wherever (if you ask, I'll probably say yes)  
Summary: Albus Dumbledore revives the Triwizard Tournament in the time of Voldemort's first rising, and sparks fly when werewolf Remus Lupin finds himself snout-to-snout with illegal Animagus Sirius Black, his best friend, and the Tournament itself.  
Spoilers: Er...Through GoF, I think, although there might be bits of OotP.  
Rating: PG (for now)  
Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine. Technically, one of the girls isn't mine. About the only thing in here that's mine are one-and-a-half characters, and the plot. The characters and world belong to JK and Scholastic and...Warner Brothers? I really don't know, but hope they'll be cool about me taking the kids out to play.  
Originally posted: We'll say Notes: This started simpler than even the prologue turned out to be. I was thinking about how I've seen fics where Remus is portrayed as French, for some unfathomable reason, and I thought--so what if he went to Beauxbatons? The next thing I know, I've got Sirius making friends with a shy, trying-to-be-uncaring but really adorable 11-year-old Severus Snape, Remus becoming and Animagus, and, for a reason I still don't quite understand, elves (it's not exactly a glaring thing, I hope; they just snuck in there, because, frankly, elves rock. Even Pratchett's elves, which are freaky). So this is an AU. This is a twist-the-world-on-its-edge AU. I hope. And I hope you enjoy.  
About the Title: It's a terrible French pun, because, of course, it literally means "between dog and wolf", but it's an idiom, and I found it irresistible.  
Warnings: None for the prologue. Well. Brief allusion to boy/boy snogging, light-hearted discussion of a werewolf eating people, and terrible pop culture reference I hate myself for.  
Dedications: samvimes, because _Stealing Harry_ made me love the fandom again, and made me want to do something big again. Feedback: Always appreciated.

* * *

Eleven-year-old Remus Lupin placed his ear against the door to the kitchen. Madam Molyneux and his parents were arguing. _Maman_ had started raising her voice early on; papa's voice was still quiet, calm. Papa never yelled, except once, and that had been when Remus had gone too far away from the farmhouse, and papa had not been yelling at Remus, but the wolf that had bitten him.

Remus knew that they were arguing about him. He had asked Madam Molyneux if he would be going to school soon, and she had fallen silent. Then she had given him a tight hug, and told him she would see what she could do.

"It's too dangerous," _maman_ proclaimed. "What if he got out, and...?" She trailed off, and Remus could picture her shaking her head, lips puckered in displeasure. "Besides, how could he make friends with the other children when he has to keep _this_ secret?"

"Your son is a resourceful boy," Madam Molyneux replied. "He has managed quite well with his lycanthropy, better than most of my other charges. I believe he would manage." She paused, probably to take a sip of her tea (she always drank tea--never coffee), before continuing, taking a different angle. "Remus is adapting quite well, but I believe he needs an opportunity to interact with people his own age. If he is lucky, this will give him a personal support network for when he is older, and at the very least, will offer him a chance to learn how to react to normal humans. Now, I've been researching the various magical schools--"

"You planned for this!" _maman_ accused. Remus heard a muffled 'thump', probably caused by _maman_ upsetting her chair.

"I suppose I did. Most parents of a lycanthropic child don't allow him much chance at a normal life; you two have tried to give him as much of a normal childhood as you could. So I decided to prepare for this eventuality. I've spoken to several headmasters--confidentially, of course, and found three that would be willing to take in Remus. Doctor LaVey has expressed interest in opening the doors of Satan's School of Witchcraft to Remus, although I suspect you are not interested in his offer."

"We are a good, Catholic family, Colette." His mother's terse response settled that matter for good.

"Very well. Although he has expressed reservations, Albus Dumbledore is willing to allow Remus to attend, under certain conditions of secrecy, confinement during the full moon--"

"_Allow_ him to attend? My son has always had the ability to attend Hogwarts! His magic showed long before that wolf ever--if that man has the presumption to say he _allows_ Remus to attend, as if he is granting us a favor...who else, Colette?"

"Ah..." Madam Molyneux sipped at her tea again, and Remus could hear her shuffling papers. "There is Beauxbatons. As the son of a French citizen, Remus' name has been on their rolls since his birth. However, until recently, there would have been great difficulty in your son actually attending."

"And have you gotten the Headmaster to graciously _allow_ our son to be more than 'just a beast', Colette?" his mother asked icily.

"No. This past spring, Arnaud Collier retired as Headmaster, and was replaced by his Defense Against the Dark Arts Instructor--a Madam Olympe Maxime. She understands prejudice, Diandra, and showed no hesitation in helping your son find his way at her academy. There will, of course, be precautions--those demanded by the Ministry, no more. He will receive the same education any other French wizard would, here, in France."

Neither of his parents spoke for a moment or two, and then Remus heard papa shift in his chair. "What do you mean...about this woman understanding prejudice? She isn't a werewolf, too, is she?"

"No. Madam Maxime is...a half-giant. She denies it publicly, but...well, it's hard not to notice. You can think of it as a...crusade of hers to debunk the common understanding of what her kind is. She would like to help you and your son, if you will let her."

_Maman_ didn't say anything; Remus took that as a good sign. His mother _always_ has something to say. If she was speechless, it meant she was really thinking about something. Papa sometimes said that _maman_ and he were a perfect match because she spoke all the time and he thought all the time, and they averaged out better than most people, half and half.

Finally, she took a deep breath, making the noise she always did before she agreed to something she thought was a bad idea. "...Very well. If this is what Remus wants, we'll send him to Beauxbatons."

Remus couldn't believe his ears. He was going to school! He was finally going to learn to be like his parents, a real wizard! He burst into the kitchen and threw himself onto Madam Molyneux, hugging her around her waist. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" The young, pretty woman the Ministry sent from time to time to make sure the young werewolf was doing well laughed at the attentions of the boy. Across the kitchen table, _maman_ smiled at the sight her son made. Maybe it wasn't such a terrible idea, after all.

* * *

Remus had only been to Paris once in his life, and the bustle of the city surprised him a little. He clung to Madam Molyneux's hand as his father carried his trunk with his school things. _Maman_ walked ahead of the group, referring constantly to the map that would bring them to Rue des Lumieres Eternelles, where Remus could purchase his wand; _maman_ had insisted that paying who-knows-how-much for Parisian books and clothing was foolish, but regarding his wand, she had informed him that there are three things a wizard should never try to save money on: potions, chocolates, and a wizard's wand.

Finally they came to a small cafe that the Muggles didn't seem to notice; his mother tapped her wand against the door, and it opened to her touch. Beyond lay a wide boulevard that seemed shrouded in eternal twilight. Every store was lit in bright colors: red, yellow, green, violet, a thousand different shades that mixed into a glorious rainbow. Remus forgot about his fear in the beautiful lights of the Parisian street of wizards and witches, watching in childish amazement as a trio of elves, strange, glorious creatures dressed in silvery silk, walked past, chatting in their flowing language. They looked nothing like the House Elves or other creatures that shared their name.

"_Maman_, those were--"

"Hush, cub," _maman_ said. "Don't be rude. Now come along, the wand-smith's is this way." The four of them wound their way through the street, at last coming to a disappointingly-plain shop nearly shoved off the side of the street into a nearby alley.

"All right, cub," papa said, ruffling Remus' head, "We'll see you when you're finished. Here's the money for your wand, we'll be just next door, in that cafe. All right?"

Remus paled, and tightened his grip on Madam Molyneux's hand. He looked up at his parents, frightened. "I have to go in...alone?"

"It's something for you to do by yourself," Madam Molyneux explained. "Many wizards get their wands alone; it's a rite of passage, in a way. Come along; you're a brave child." She pried his hand away from hers, and shoved Remus lightly towards the door.

Remus pushed the door open, and stepped into the musty shop. An elderly man sat behind a high counter; he looked up as Remus entered, smiling. "Ah! Hello. Who are you, child?"

"Remus Dautry dit Lupin," Remus whispered. The man looked the boy up and down, and nodded, as if he expected this.

"Very well, let's get you a wand." He snapped his fingers, and a box appeared at his side. He flipped it open, and pulled out a foot-long stick. "Oak, with a silver-and-iron core. Good for power, although rigid and not very creative." When Remus refused to take the wand, he peered down at the child, frowning. "Come on; it won't bite."

Remus shook his head, refusing to speak. If he told the man why he couldn't take the wand, he might not give Remus one at all. The man scowled, returning the wand to its box, and snapped again, replacing it with another slender box, this one holding a slender, bendy stick. "Willow, this one. Good for charms. Contains a core of powdered dragon's blood. Careful, now..." Remus cautiously took the wand, flicking it back and forth with no effect. "Hm. Nothing." The man grabbed the wand back, and made a complicated motion with his free hand. Another wand appeared, and like the last, Remus couldn't get it to do anything. The man growled, and began giving wands to Remus in rapid succession, growing more frustrated with every one that failed to produce a response. Finally, he pushed himself from his desk and stalked into the back room.

Remus stood there for a few moments, shocked. Had the man decided he gave up? Did Remus just not have magic at all? Or wasn't there any wand that he could use? Just as Remus was about to leave, the man returned, holding a wand, not a box, in his hand. It was short, 11 inches, and looked as if the bark had been peeled off of a green branch and never allowed to dry. "Olive, eleven and one-half inches. It was left to soak in the moonlight and rinsed in quicksilver. It's not real silver, boy, don't worry." The man tilted his head, examining Remus with a critical eye. "You're the first of your kind I've ever seen in here, cub. Here, take it." Remus took the wand, and shivered when it touched his hand. It felt familiar, warm to the touch, and even _smelled_ right.

He gave it a flick, and the dimly-lit shop was suddenly filled with cool, white light, the wand glowing with the strength of the moon. Startled, Remus dropped the wand, and it fell to the store's floor, light winking out as it did so. The old man gave a hearty laugh.

"Seems I was right, cub. You'd never do well with a _wizard's_ wand; there's a different type of magic in you, no doubt. Wouldn't doubt you've got talents that'd leave your noblest pureblood speechless. Wouldn't doubt you're destined for great things. If you're willing to try for it."

"What do you mean...I wouldn't do well with a wizard's wand? Aren't I a wizard?" Remus' trembling question brought the man up short, before he grinned at Remus, the sort of grin papa gave Remus before telling him to keep a secret from _maman_.

"You're a wizard, no doubt. But your magic's different. Less refined. You can't work with our wands, because they expect something a little more...civilized, and you overwhelm them with a rush of power. I imagine Ollivander could have found you something you could use, but you'd never get it to work _well_. You'd be a decent wizard with one of his, but with this...you can be a _great_ one. These are the types of wands the druids used to call down the moon and bind her to them. The wands of the Sibyls and of Circe." The man winked at Remus. "Like I said, we can expect great things from you, Remus Lupin. Go on, take it," he said, as Remus dug in his pockets for the Galleons his father had given him. "I couldn't sell it anyway. Besides, one day, you'll pay me back in something better than gold." Eyes glittering, he watched the young werewolf leave the shop. "One day, Remus Lupin..."

* * *

It was hectic at the Paris train station; even after passing through the wall at the end, where the Wizarding Platform Zero was, there still seemed to be thousands of people milling around, even though _maman_ had told him only about a hundred students went to Beauxbatons. Remus had never been around lots of people at once, growing up in a small Wizard village in Champagne, so this many people in one place was unnerving. _Maman_ kissed him twice, told him to listen to his teachers and not get into trouble, papa gave him a pocketful of chocolates and told him to not be frightened, there were plenty of other students who were new, and they were all as nervous as he, and Madam Molyneux looked him in the eye and told him that he was a wonderful child, and nothing he couldn't help changed that. Then she reminded him to check in with Madam Maxime when he arrived, and he was finally on the train, a white construction that looked like it was made out of crystal, but was comfortable and cool inside, filled with yellow light and with padded compartments. He slipped into a small compartment near the back of the train, feeling the urge to hide despite his parents' advice.

The train finally left, at noon exactly on the twenty-ninth of August, and Remus took a deep breath. This was it. He was going to school.

A knock at the door to the compartment startled him, and when he looked up, a beautiful girl stood at the entrance. She was slender, blond, and had inviting green eyes, and was dressed in robes of pale blue silk. Remus sniffed, and caught an alluring scent, like cinnamon and chocolate.

"I'm sorry; are these seats taken?" Remus shook his head; the girl sighed gratefully, and half-fainted into the seat across from Remus. Another girl, taller, with black hair, and pointed ears, entered, and sat next to her. The first girl held out her hand.

"Hello. I'm Solange Delacroix. This is my first year at Beauxbatons."

Her companion did not hold out her hand, but she nodded to Remus. "I'm Yvonne."

"Remus Lupin." The two girls grinned at him, and then Solange grabbed his hands.

"Wonderful to meet you, Remus. Aren't you excited? My father went to Beauxbatons, and he said it's wonderful. He insisted I not go to Hogwarts; you know how it is. Anyway, how about your family? Did they all go to Beauxbatons, or are you the first?"

Slightly overwhelmed by Solange's chatter, Remus shook his head. "I'm the first. _Maman_ and papa both went to Hogwarts."

"Oh! Why aren't you going to Hogwarts? I know some parents think their children ought to be taught in French. I think that's rather foolish, but _chacun son truc_. (To each his own) My father believes Hogwarts is a terrible place to send a child--the stories I've heard about those teachers! How about you, then?"

"Sorry--what?" Remus blushed, realizing he'd been staring at Solange rather than listening.

She laughed, and Yvonne smirked at the boy, causing Remus to blush more. The first people he'd met, and they were already making fun of him! He got up, intent on finding another compartment, when Solange laid a calming hand on his arm.

"Oh, don't get so upset. We're not making fun of you, honest, petit choux." Solange grinned. "You see, I'm half-veela. Boys can't help but act like twits around me." Remus looked at Yvonne, hoping to see some evidence that they were putting him on. But both girls looked very serious.

"Really?" Solange nodded, still grinning.

"If I really try, I can make most boys melt like that," she said, snapping her fingers.

"That explains why you smell so good," Remus blurted. The two girls gave him odd looks, and he realized he'd blown it. It was hard, sometimes, to remember that normal humans had terrible senses of smell.

After a moment of thought, however, Yvonne smiled, eyebrows rising. "Are you a druid, then? I've heard they call animal spirits into themselves to improve their senses."

Remus almost said 'yes'; she was handing the lie to him, and it would have been easy to explain away so much else. But despite his one secret, his parents had always taught Remus to be honest, and Madam Molyneux had said this place would be safe for him.

"No; I'm a werewolf."

* * *

Sirius Black resisted the urge to growl when he passed yet _another_ compartment full of people who had already made friends. He didn't understand how anyone could just make friends like that. Maybe because he didn't have much experience with kids his age. His parents were used to dragging him to "society" events, which were lacking in children under the age of 30. He'd caught a glimpse or two of kids he recognized from "proper Wizard" families, but that meant kids who were used to feeling superior, and so wouldn't give the time of day to anyone they thought inferior.

He passed an empty compartment, but wasn't _that_ desperate, yet. He was, however, considering giving up hope. But the next compartment just held one boy, who looked like he was just beginning to sprout upward, looking terribly awkward in his newly-acquired height. His hair was slick and greasy, and his rather large, pointed nose was stuck in a thick book, one of the many Sirius had bought a week ago and hadn't yet cracked open. He knocked on the side of the door, trying to catch the boy's attention.

The boy didn't respond to the knock, so Sirius came in, hauling his belongings above them onto the racks, and sat down across from the boy, who refused to look up. Sirius tried to be patient; he sat still for nearly thirty seconds! But when the boy refused to acknowledge Sirius' existence, he took matters into his own hands.

"Oi." He tugged the book downward so he could meet the other boy's black eyes. There was something familiar about him, but Sirius wasn't about to wonder about it. "I'm Sirius Black. Who're you?"

"Severus," the boy replied. He tried to pull his book back up, but Sirius wasn't having any of that.

Besides, he remembered where he'd seen the boy before; a month ago, at some distant cousin's birthday "party" (it was more of a birthday "stand around and talk about how much you hated Muggles"), he'd seen a somewhat shorter Severus tucked into a corner, reading a book thicker than the one he was currently trying to retreat back into. "So, you're a first-year?"

"Yes," the boy said, tugging harder on his book. He had a desperate look in his eyes, as if silently pleading with Sirius to let him flee this conversation.

"I suppose you couldn't find anyone to sit with," Sirius continued, deciding if he was stuck with someone who didn't want to talk to him, he'd _make_ the boy change his mind. "It's ridiculous how everyone's already banded together; you can nearly tell what House people are going to be. For example, I saw a group of girls that I just _know_ are going to end up in Gryffindor. Say, what House do you think you're going to end up in?"

The boy's tugging relaxed a little as he actually looked thoughtful. "I like reading a lot, and want to do well in my classes, so maybe Ravenclaw...but I've heard they're just a lot of know-it-alls, so maybe not."

"The way you're acting, I'd say you were bound for Hufflepuff, no offense meant," Sirius said off-handedly. "All of the Blacks for five generations have been Slytherin, so I was considering trying to get myself into Gryffindor, just to spite them."

"Get _out_ of _Slytherin_?" Severus asked, eyes wide. "But Slytherin's _brilliant!_" Suddenly, he closed up, the excited look fleeing his face, as if mortified to have revealed anything so private. "I mean..."

"Think you might want a shot at the big leagues?" Sirius asked. "You don't have to be Slytherin for _that_."

"But I want to be a Defense teacher, like my father," Severus said, "And no one else ever even _thinks_ about the Dark Arts. Too scared to study it, and too weak to fight it." His eyes, earlier closed and dead, were starting to glitter, show a light that Sirius liked.

"So how about we both try for Slytherin, eh?"

"Huh?" Sirius was willing to bet Severus had never had another boy his age show any interest in him; most boys were probably put off by Severus' odd appearance and his utter contempt for other people.

So Sirius just grinned at him. "How about we both try for Slytherin, and we'll look out for each other."

Severus tried to sneer at Sirius. "I don't need anyone to look out for me."

"Really? Because I know I'll be horrendous at Potions and Astronomy--haven't got the patience. Plus, I don't really know anyone, and it'd be nice to have someone to eat with right off the bat, you know? And I know I'd hate to get lost and run into some Gryffindor students; they hate Slytherins, and would do something _awful_ to a lone Slytherin lost in the castle."

He watched as Severus' sneer faltered, faded, and was replaced by something akin to worry. And...a little hope. "So...maybe I wanted to look out for you. Make sure you pass Potions, and help you keep from getting lost. You'd do the same for me?"

"Sure, Sevvie." Severus scowled, but Sirius could see he was secretly pleased that someone had gone through the trouble to give him a nickname. Sirius held out a hand. "So, friends?"

Severus started. Friends? Was that what all that meant? He looked uncertainly at Sirius' hand, and the other boy laughed. "I haven't got a slug in it or anything, Sevvie." So Severus tentatively grasped Sirius' hand, and Sirius pumped it up and down twice (he refrained from spitting in his hand to make the promise; he wasn't certain Severus could deal with that yet). "There. Friends."

"Oi!" Another boy appeared in the entrance of the compartment. He had messy black hair, was somewhat scrawny, and wore a set of round spectacles he shoved back up his nose every few seconds. "You want to join us in the next compartment? We've still got space." Severus and Sirius exchanged a glance, shrugged, and pushed themselves to their feet. But when Severus stood, the boy shook his head. "Not _him_; we don't need his greasy hair getting all over everything. I was talking to you. Black." He pointed at Sirius, as if to make sure both occupants knew about whom he was speaking.

Severus froze. His face twisted into an expression of hurt, which was quickly covered by the same neutral expression he'd held when Sirius had first arrived. Of course he'd been naive to think this would last. Sirius would run off with this new boy, and Severus would be left alone again. It had seemed too good to be true, but Sirius had seemed so sincere. He'd let himself be tricked into caring again. "Fine," he muttered, falling back into his seat, intent on going back to his book. Books were better than people anyway; he controlled when they came and went, and they couldn't hurt him.

But Sirius had other plans. "Apologize," he demanded of the newcomer. The boy looked startled, as if he hadn't considered the possibility of Sirius _liking_ Severus. "Apologize," Sirius demanded, again, and this time, the other boy's face hardened, and he shook his head.

"If he doesn't know he's a greasy git, I'm doing him a favor telling him," he retorted.

"That's it," Sirius muttered, reaching for his wand. Severus' eyes widened. Was Sirius really going to break the rules for him? The other boy saw the motion, as well, and his hand shot for his own wand, but it was too late.

"_Nota Indelitis!_" he shouted, and the boy was hit with a flash of scarlet light. When the spots in his eyes cleared, Severus saw, with amazement, that the boy's forehead read, in flowing, fluorescent script, _Property of Sirius Black_. Sirius grinned, spinning his wand about his fingers carelessly. "_That's_ what you get for messing with my friend." The boy lunged forward with his wand, and a blue jet of light streaked at Sirius. "_Protego,_" Sirius drawled, and the light bounced harmlessly away. "I'm not impressed," he concluded. "So why don't you admit I've won and go back to your friends. Let them know who's in charge around here."

The boy sputtered, then whirled about, storming from the compartment. Sirius waited for a count of three, before he let himself collapse into his seat, laughing. "Did you see his face when I deflected his hex? I had no idea if it was going to work, but he must not have much talent, to get bounced away that easily." Severus watched in silence, still somewhat in awe. Sirius had really...had _defended_ him. So maybe he'd been ser--sincere when he'd offered friendship. Severus allowed himself to hope, cautiously. Maybe school wouldn't be all that bad.

* * *

_Spring, 1973_

Albus Dumbledore peered over his spectacles at the two boys Minerva had dragged up here. James Potter was trying to look carefree, keeping his eyes anywhere except on Dumbledore, and Sirius Black...Sirius was staring directly at the Headmaster, defiance in his eyes. Dumbledore sighed.

"Gentlemen, this is the sixth time I've had you _both_ in here _this semester_. Now, what happened?"

"He hexed me!" James snapped, pointing at Sirius, at the same time Sirius shouted, "He was making fun of Severus!"

The two gazes met, both boys glowering. Then James shot his gaze back at Dumbledore. "I wasn't making fun of Snivellus; I just asked him to move his head so I could see the board."

"You told him to get his abnormally-large honker out of your eyesight so you could take notes in peace!" Sirius retorted, hand straying dangerously close to his wand.

"It's not _my_ fault his nose is only feature worth noticing on his face!"

"Maybe if you stopped trying to antagonize him, you might notice something other than his nose!" Sirius retorted.

"BOYS!" Both froze mid-shout at Dumbledore's yell. They turned, as one, to face him, hazel and grey eyes focused on what he imagined was a rather frightening expression. For the moment, they were more worried about him than their feud. And an idea struck him. "Follow me." He descended the staircase from his office, both boys trailing quietly. Once, he thought he heard one of them say something, but it was cut off by a hurried "shush". He led them along the corridors, up to the seventh floor, where, to the students, it must have seemed he had lost his mind. The third time he passed a seemingly blank piece of wall, a door appeared. Dumbledore stalked over to it, and threw it open to reveal an empty, windowless room, padded on every surface. Dumbledore grinned.

"Your punishment is to remain within until the two of you have negotiated a way to tolerate each other's existence for the next...five-and-a-half years."

"What?" Dumbledore smirked at the twin shouts of outrage. They were at least one step closer to peace, if they were together against him.

"You mean until dinner or something, right?" Sirius asked. "You wouldn't let us _starve_, would you?" Dumbledore only shoved the boy into the room, followed by James, and, waving to them cheerily, shut the door, locked it, and walked away.

* * *

"I still say this is your fault," Sirius panted, sprawled out on one half of the padded room. He was sweating, tired, and covered in mauve boils. Across the room, wrists bound with grey vines and face a mottled green, James groaned.

"Can we just drop it?"

"Fine." He continued staring at the ceiling. "You know, I feel a lot better, now..."

"Something about finally getting to hex me into next week relieved your stress?" James asked sardonically. Sirius chuckled.

"Something like that. Truce?"

"Truce. I'll leave the--" Sirius cleared his throat, and James backtracked. "I'll leave Severus alone, you'll stop spending every waking moment finding new ways to punish me, and we get to get out of here."

"Acceptable. If you felt like doing my Astronomy homework, too, I'd definitely accept that as part of the terms," Sirius said.

"Don't push your luck, Black."

They lay in silence for another few minutes, before Sirius spoke up again.

"You know, what if we did this every week or so?"

"What, get locked in an abandoned asylum by Dumbledore?"

"No, get together and throw hexes at each other until we can't move."

"I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have another reason to go to Madam Pomfrey every week. It's bad enough being on the reserve team for Quidditch."

"Fine, you nancy. We don't have to use _dangerous_ hexes. Just, you know, get a little practice dueling every week."

"That actually sounds good. You're smarter than you look, Black." James sat up, grinning at Sirius. Sirius only gave him a lazy wave, too tired to push himself up.

"Part and parcel of the Black family genes. Now, let's see about getting that door open."

* * *

_November 11, 1973_

"We really ought to do something about this," Solange commented over the recumbent Remus. He looked up at her, blinking curiously.

"What, the Infirmary?"

"No, your lycanthropy," she said, rolling her eyes. She leaned half-over Remus' legs to half-whisper into Yvonne's ear. "You see, what if we could keep him company?"

"I'd eat you alive," Remus commented. "You see, the thing about becoming a slavering, man-eating beast once a month means that if there's people around, _I eat them_. Logical conclusion and all that." Solange grinned knowingly at him.

"Well, I'm an elf," Yvonne said, pouting in that amusing way she did when she thought she looked adorable. Unfortunately, given her inherited regal features, it just made her look spoiled.

"Yes, and Solange's half-veela. It doesn't make much of a difference. You could just think of me as a human_oid_-eating wolf, then."

"Exactly," Yvonne said, turning her sky-blue eyes onto Remus' golden ones. "So what if we weren't human?"

"What?"

Solange produced a textbook from behind her back, and flipped it open to a page somewhere in the middle. There was a painting of a middle-aged witch standing in a field, overlapping with a drawing of a kestrel perched on a tree stump. "You see, there's a potion-slash-ritual that allows a witch or wizard the ability to take the form of a certain animal for which they have an affinity at will. Those that successfully complete it are called Animagi, and according to some reports I've read, the Animagi can interact safely with fully-transformed werewolves. All we have to do is get enough research done to figure it out for ourselves and duplicate the process."

Remus' jaw dropped. They were crazy. They were utterly insane. They were..._perfect_. "I can't let you do that! What if something went wrong?"

"That's why we're working on it together," Yvonne explained, tossing her hair haughtily. "So we'd be able to spend the transformation _with_ you, and keep you from hurting yourself."

On one level, Remus was overjoyed. He knew having company would lessen the pain, would nearly steal it away. To have _friends_ there with him while he transformed! But another part was angry, jealous. They'd have animals inside of them, the way he did, except they'd be able to pull them out whenever they wanted, while Remus was trapped by the moon's cycle, only able to live in the wolf under the full moon, when the wolf was pulled out from deep inside him. It hurt, to think about it.

"Besides, Yvonne thinks we'd be able to get the process to work on you, too."

"What now?" Remus was certain he'd heard Solange wrong. But when she repeated herself, lips moving slowly and enunciating exactly, Remus saw it was no mistake. It was simple. It was brilliant. It wasn't a cure; he'd still have to transform under the moon, but...

But the wolf was inside of him, and raged at being trapped for twenty-seven out of twenty-eight days. He knew, somewhere deep inside of him, perhaps where the wolf lived, that if it worked...

It would be another of the small steps Remus had taken to make peace with the monster inside of him. But it was impossible; after all, were it possible, someone would have done it, right?

Except the wand-smith had said something to Remus. The first of his kind...in a long time. Maybe...maybe no one had ever thought of it. Because you had to register to become an Animagus, and no one thought giving the wolf _more_ control would help, so maybe it had never been allowed. Yvonne and Solange, however, weren't registering, and Remus sure as hell wasn't, and that meant, if they pulled it off, they would prove something. He wasn't sure what, but he knew it would be a blow for werewolves everywhere.

"So, are you in?" the blond half-veela demanded, green eyes glowing with the intensity she showed when she was truly excited, when she forgot to reign in her supernatural aspects, and let her magical beauty supplant her natural attractiveness.

Remus grinned. "I'm in."

* * *

_April 1, 1974_

Four boys sat in the Transfiguration classroom, which was dark and empty, save for their seats. The two on the left wore the green-and-silver ties of Slytherin, while the two on the right wore Gryffindor's gold-and-red. The Slytherin on the end, a boy with unfortunate greasy hair and the sorrow to have a nose a bit too long for its own good, turned to the boy next to him.

"I still want it known I was against this from the start."

"Relax, Sevvie. McGonagall went easy on us, and I'm sure Professor Calloyde thinks we're brilliant, cooking up Polyjuice on our own like that," the boy replied. He had black hair, attractively ruffled, and his grey eyes nearly glowed in the light of the waxing moon. "And it was worth it, to see her face when she asked Potter if he could name the three types of Transfiguration not requiring the use of a wand, and his skin melted off. Sorry about the rash, though, Peter. How was I supposed to know you were allergic to knotgrass?"

"'s'all right," the brunette at the other end of the row muttered.

"You know..." the fourth boy said, turning to grin at the middle Slytherin. "I got to thinking about what McGonagall was talking about in class today. Wouldn't it be a hoot if we could pull off the Animagus transformation?"

"No. Absolutely not," 'Sevvie' replied. "We'd just end up like Peter over there. Or worse! Have you seen the pictures of what happens when it goes wrong?" He turned his black eyes angrily onto the Gryffindor. "Only you would come up with an idea that stupid, Potter."

"Well, we can't all have memorized the books about Dark Arts in the library, Sni--Snape," Potter retorted, correcting himself at the end of his statement to avoid certain retaliation from the black-haired boy seated next to him. "Sirius thinks it's a good idea, don't you?"

Sirius put his hand on his chin, as if thinking hard. "I don't know. Severus is right; it's pretty dangerous. There's a ritual _and_ a potion to make, and it's different for every person. I know you and I could handle the ritual, but if Severus is afraid he'll mess up the potion, I suppose we ought to just give up the dream."

"I haven't fallen for _that_ trick since I turned twelve," Severus said in a controlled whisper.

Potter just flashed him a 100-watt grin. "So you can't do it, then? I _suppose_ we could ask Lily Evans; she's brilliant in Potions, and probably would make it taste better, too."

Severus just stared at Potter with loathing for several seconds, before snapping his head around to face the front of the room. "You'd both just end up turning yourselves inside out or something without me there to help you."

Potter turned to Peter, beside him, and nudged the pudgy boy in the stomach. "How about you, Pete? You up for another challenge?"

Peter shook his head, and scratched at his arms again. "Sorry; I think I've had enough of Transfiguring myself. But I'll help, if you guys want."

"You can make sure we're not going to blow ourselves up doing it," Potter said. "You know, read our palms, check the _cards_..."

Peter flushed; it was no secret Professor Devorah favored him in Divinations, nor that he took himself, and the course, quite seriously. But still, it was good to be appreciated once in a while.

"You can help me researching the potion, too," Severus said, "If you don't think you'll screw up too badly."

"And I guess that leaves me to supervise," Sirius said, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back.

"Nope," Potter said, poking the boy in the ribs. "Your job is to run interference so that McGonagall doesn't figure out what we're up to when you start taking advanced Transfiguration texts out of the library. Give her some shite about wanting to be a teacher."

Sirius shot Potter a dark look, but the boy responded with a bright grin.

* * *

_November 15, 1975_

"Okay, does everyone have their potions?" A slender, beautiful teenage girl lifted a glass of sparking, orange liquid, and glanced at her two companions. Another girl, this one's beauty more of a quiet, dignified grace that matched her regal features and piercing blue eyes, lifted a glass of brown-black sludge. The sole boy in the small, padded room, raised a glass of grey-white fluid. He looked at the first girl with a sharp, golden-edged glare, then nodded.

The room in which they stood was padded, and could only be unlocked by a particular three-charm sequence of the twenty-seven different unlocking charms. The padding, however, was worn, showing damage where it had been torn, others where it was stained with blood or urine. It did not look like the sort of place one would go to a lot of trouble to keep people out of.

Of course, it wasn't. It was the sort of place one built to keep something _in_.

"You go first, Solange, in case...well, you know."

The first girl nodded, and raised the glass to her lips. She drank deep, taking the entire contents in one swallow. When she lowered the glass, she raised her left hand, in which she held a stiff, mahogany branch. She twisted it in a half-moon pattern, and as she did so, spoke a single phrase. "_Ex animo_."

For a moment, nothing happened. And then, the girl dropped the glass and her wand, grabbing at her sides. The other girl started forward, as if to help her, but the boy restrained her with an outstretched arm. He recognized her position, her face, as that of a person whose body was stretching, bending, trying to accommodate a new form. Indeed, in only a few seconds, her body seemed to contract, twist, and bend, until where the teenager named Solange had stood, there sat a red fox. The creature was covered in fur bordering on the edge of gold and orange, except for its chest and muzzle, where white interrupted the solid color, and ears and feet, which were covered in black fur. Streaks of a more yellow color ran through the fox's coat. The fox looked down, as if startled, and then stood, looking at herself up and down. Her tails twitched happily at what she saw.

Remus blinked twice, shook his head, as if trying to clear it, and then stared. Solange had been replaced with a fox that had...two tails.

The other girl laughed. "The girl's half-fairy, so she turned herself into a kitsune!" The kitsune glanced up at the girl and tried to glare, green pinpoints shining in the compact face of the creature.

Remus bent down to the fox, and began rubbing between her ears. "She's gorgeous even as a fox, aren't you, Solange?" After a few moments, he stopped, and looked up at the black-haired girl, raising one eyebrow. "Well, Yvonne?"

"Oh." She swallowed the contents of her glass, lazily flicked her wand in a half-moon, and said, "_Ex animo_," as she tossed the glass aside onto the pads in the corner. Remus looked away, allowing her the privacy to shift. When he looked back, he was faced with a slender, black-furred wolf, only distinguishable from a true red wolf by the fact that her ears were slightly longer and distinctly more pointed. Remus grinned, ruffling the creature's ears. Yvonne-the-red wolf shook her head, annoyed, and nipped at Remus' fingers.

He laughed, and took a step back. He knew werewolves were supposed to be friendly towards Animagi, but what they were doing now was untested, and he'd wanted to make sure that his friends were at least in animal form before he tried to awaken the wolf.

He tried to project calm, to make sure the half-asleep presence within him felt that everything was all right. He was with pack; it wasn't the moon, but there was no prey. Everything was all right.

The taste of the potion, sickly-sweet and tasting of musk, lingered on his tongue as he flicked his wand in a half-moon and whispered, "_Ex animo_."

There was little pain, just an intense cramp that pulled him into a fetal position as his body stretched and compressed, and in his mind, he felt the ever-present wolf perk up its ears and try to take over.

He could feel the struggle, and he knew he would lose if he fought, so he tried a different tactic.

_No full moon. Man-magic lets you run whenever I want. So...no hunt?_

There was a pause, confusion. Surely this was a trick? The wolf knew he only came out when the moon was full. _You trap wolf until moon make strong. Wolf fight when moon full, come out, try to hunt._

Remus shook his head, the body of the wolf mimicking this human gesture. _I will let the wolf out. I will let the wolf share my pack. I will let the wolf be free-but-together...if the wolf does not hunt Man._

The wolf tried to fight his way around these complicated human thoughts, but then a strange sensation overwhelmed his mind. The scent of two other creatures--canids! Not wolves-like-him, but a slim, female wolf, and a red-wolf-with tails. They smelt familiar, and friendly, and...And the boy had said if the wolf did not hunt people, they would be his pack. And he would not be bound to the moon, though he would still run beneath the orb that was his mother and god.

_Wolf not hunt Man...Wolf run outside?_

Remus felt like laughing, crying. It couldn't really be this easy, and yet..._Yes._ The wolf relaxed a little, no longer intent on seizing control of this shared body. It nudged Remus to greet his packmates properly, but it felt better, knowing that the boy would share. Share his pack, share his body, and share himself. It felt this was the way things should be.

* * *

"I think we ought to name our animals," Yvonne said, seated on a semi-circular couch in one of the castle's common rooms. "Because they're sort of...other sides of us."

"Well, Remus' is obviously Moony," Solange said, smiling brightly at her friend. The boy gave a disgusted look.

"Moony? That sounds so...girly."

"Would you rather we call you 'cub'?" she asked, looking that had she been in her fox-shape, her tails would have been twitching vigorously. Remus growled, but didn't put much force in it.

"Fine. But you're Redtail."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman," Yvonne said, raising a hand dramatically from the half of the couch onto which she'd sprawled face-up. "And I, as a name befitting my noble ancestry, will be called--"

"Snuffles," Remus said. A pillow came flying from Yvonne's direction; he caught it deftly, but she launched herself over Solange onto the boy, nails extended as if ready to fight. The three tumbled off the couch in an undignified pile, catching the attention of most of the rest of the students trying to study.

When Yvonne pulled herself out of the pile and sat herself with proper composure back on the couch, she glared down at Remus, who had not yet mustered the strength to move.

"Really, you have no sense of propriety, do you, Moony?"

"How...about...Blackfang?" Yvonne's normally calm expression twisted into a, eager grin.

"Are you joking? That sounds...dangerous." She leaned forward, baring her teeth at Remus. "Beware, or Blackfang will get you!" Remus responded with a snarl that sent Yvonne skittering back almost to the back of the couch. He gave her a wide grin.

"We'll call you Blackfang, Yvonne, as long as you remember who's the alpha around here."

* * *

_February 12, 1976_

"So..." Severus ignored Sirius, his attention apparently focused on his Potions essay. But Sirius wasn't about to give up that easily. "Sevvie--"

"Severus," Severus muttered. "Sevvie makes me sound like I'm twelve."

"Fine, _Severus._ What did you think?"

Severus looked up from his scroll, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "It was...an experience." He turned his attention back to his homework. "Although I didn't appreciate being pounced on by that huge mutt you call a dog."

"Oh, come on, Severus! Can you honestly say you got out there and didn't have the urge to run, chase something, hunt, play?" Acting almost like a big dog himself, Sirius crawled across Severus' bed, grinning at his friend. "You had to have felt at least as excited as I did. Hell, even _James_ had fun, and we didn't have Peter tagging along with us. You know what it takes to get that boy to enjoy himself without Pete hanging around worshipping him?"

Severus sighed. "I still didn't appreciate having Rover tackling me. I think I've still got slobber in my ear." He grimaced, but Sirius' face had frozen in a look of disbelief.

"Did you call me...Rover?"

"You're a dog, aren't you?" Severus asked, rolling his eyes.

"Hey!" Sirius rolled off the bed, and hurried around in front of Severus, glaring. "I refuse to be called 'Rover'."

"Then find a way to stop me," Severus said, nose still stuck in his work.

"Make you?" Sirius watched the other teen working for a minute or two, thinking. The only way to keep Severus from doing something was to make it worse for him to do it than not. And if he thought something was amusing...

"You know, my aunt had a cat named _Muffin_," Sirius said, off-handedly, as if he were just musing aloud. The scratching of Severus' quill stopped, and when Sirius glanced his way, a murderous gaze was being aimed at him.

"You _wouldn't_." The tableau held for about ten seconds, each boy trying to get the other to back down.

Finally, Severus let out a defeated sigh. "Padfoot."

"Nightcat," Sirius said. Severus gave a curt nod, and returned to his homework. Sirius bounded to the door of the dorm, pausing before he left. "I'll go tell James, all right?"

Severus gave him a distracted wave, sending the idiot running through the castle almost _exactly_ like an overgrown puppy. Severus snorted. The dog form fit Sirius, the same way Severus had felt so right when he'd taken the shape of the large, powerful cat. When he'd climbed a tree to avoid the bouncing, slobbering mutt. When he'd leapt out of that same tree to nearly tackle the stag that was James Potter. And, despite himself, it had been...enjoyable letting go of the self-conscious human part of his mind and indulging in the ways of the beast. He knew he would never admit it to Sirius, or another living being as long as he lived, but it was the most fun he'd ever had in his life.

* * *

_September 1, 1976_

Severus glanced up at Sirius, his best friend (how he was still amazed that there was anyone he could call his friend, much less his 'best' friend) sprawled across both seats across from him. Sirius held a copy of the _Daily Prophet_, frowning at whatever he read. He glanced over at Severus, perhaps sensing the gaze on him, and Severus returned his eyes to be focused on the window, as if he hadn't been looking.

"Come on with it, Severus."

"With what?"

_A calloused hand ran up Severus' back, warm breath on his neck, as he nibbled on the other's earlobe, eliciting a soft moan._

"You've been giving me these _looks_, and then jumping like a rabbit when I look at you. What's wrong?"

"...It's nothing," Severus muttered.

_A low chuckled, a hand brushing across his lips. "You ever do this before?"_

"Bollocks," Sirius said, rolling himself off of his seat. When he landed, it was on the floor between the seats, belly up, deliberately exposed, the way he'd taken to doing when he wanted to put someone else in control. Severus had never seen him do that with anyone else, so maybe it was just a way of making Severus--both the human and panther side--feel at ease. "Something's bothering you, and you don't want to tell me. Remember: I can _smell_ fear." Severus chuckled, the joke still funny despite the fact they _knew_ it wasn't true. Or at least, not totally true.

Severus took a deep breath, wondering how he could say this. How could he tell _Sirius_, who had been with him since his first day of school, standing beside him, who had beaten down James Potter to get the Gryffindor to leave Severus alone?

Sure, he knew that Sirius was his best friend, and nothing would change that, but...

But, and Severus hated to admit it, there was still a part of that friendless little boy inside of him, who worried what people would think, and tried to pretend he didn't. And if he lost Sirius, he wasn't sure what he would do.

Certainly not kill himself; he wasn't a drama queen. But it wouldn't make for a pleasant year.

"...Something happened over the summer."

He must have blushed, because Sirius was suddenly back in his own seat, grinning like a maniac. "_Something?_ Has our little Snapie-poo finally gotten himself a girlfriend?"

Severus shook his head. "No; it was just...you know." He shrugged. "A summer thing. My parents took me to Romania, and there was a family in the next cottage..." It would be so easy to leave it there, retreat from questions about details, and let Sirius think what he wanted to, but this was no time to start keeping secrets from Sirius. He knew Sirius had no secrets from him, even the cold, uncertain feelings Sirius had about his family, proud of him but pushing just a little too hard, pushing for things Sirius wasn't certain he could live up to, or wanted to. Sirius had shared all of that with him, and somehow, that meant Severus had to share this secret. "...His name was Igor."

Sirius didn't say anything. Severus blinked a few times, feeling the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He hadn't really expected this; however often the dangerous little voice liked whispering terrible words in his ear, Severus hadn't really believed Sirius would react like this. Determined not to let Sirius see him cry, and give him more reason to hate him, Severus stood.

However, Sirius' hand on his wrist kept him from moving too far. Severus glanced back at Sirius, and saw...a look of confusion on Sirius' eyes.

"Do you mean you...and...Igor...snogged?" Severus just nodded. He wasn't sure if he could trust his voice not to make him sound like a teary-eyed girl. "So you...you like blokes?"

"Are you really that dense, or are you trying to make this as painful as possible, Black?" Severus snapped, feeling irritation replacing his breakdown.

"No, I..." Sirius looked bewildered, uncertain as to what exactly he should be doing. "Oh, hell." He yanked on Severus' arm, pulling the other boy down into a tight hug. "It's all right, really. I was just...surprised."

Severus tried to fight it, but his eyes were getting unpleasantly moist. Most of his tears seemed to be dribbling onto Sirius' shoulder, so it was all right. But he had to be sure. "You're...you're really, all right with it?"

"As long as you have no illusions about your chances with me, Snape," Sirius replied, giving Severus a bright grin. Severus almost broke down again right there, but he only gave Sirius a fake sneer, letting a hint of a grin enter into it.

"I like to think I have at least _some_ taste, Black." Sirius just released Severus, and threw himself onto the seat next to him, and that was that.

Severus wondered, sometimes, what would have happened in his life if he didn't have a friend like Sirius Black in it.

* * *

_June 30, 1977_

"Olympe, Sasha." Albus Dumbledore looked at each of his colleagues in turn, seeing in their eyes the same worry he concealed every morning when he looked into the mirror. "These are uncertain times, where some wonder if the world may be falling apart. Our children are being divided by the ways their families are going, and very soon, perhaps this year, we will be forced to admit that it is war."

The large woman dabbed at her eyes, touched by the thought of her children being tugged off into a war. She certainly wasn't old enough to remember Grindelwald, or Adolph Hitler, but he could see the same worry in her eyes as many had seen in the years before Grindelwald's rather sound defeat at his hands.

Sasha, however, looked impassive, though his eyes betrayed him. He was a man used to dealing with the Dark Arts, Dumbledore knew, and understood how to keep his counsel.

"I think perhaps, it is time for us to seek to remake old bonds, to give our children the strength to weather this dark time."

Sasha could not hide his surprise, and Olympe paled. Dumbledore tried to remember if she ever would have seen it, but his memory failed him. Sasha spoke first. "It's too dangerous, Albus. Even if we could make it safer...wouldn't it attract..._You-Know-Who's_ attention? It is not too good to have many people there at once."

Dumbledore nodded. "I have thought of all of this, but I feel that it is more important that the children leaving our institutions this year learn that they have friends beyond the walls of their individual schools. Let me add, too, that ever since its construction, Hogwarts has never fallen. Neither Le Fey nor Grindelwald have ever breached its borders, so why then would Voldemort stand a chance? If you fear for your students' safety, then perhaps they would be _safest_ at Hogwarts." He sat; in his excitement, he had risen to his feet, nearly overturning his chair. "But it is, of course, your own decisions to make. I urge you to think carefully on it."

Olympe shook her head. "I do not need to think, Professor Dumbledore. It is important that we remember our foreign cousins, especially in such a time."

"I must agree, as well," Sasha said. "Any plan of action includes risks, and if the benefit outweighs the consequences, then only a fool would hesitate."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "Then perhaps we should begin making plans. I have here some things drawn up by Lester Crown, our Minister of International Wizarding Cooperation..."

If either Olympe or Sasha suspected Dumbledore of manipulating them, neither spoke of their concerns.


	2. Ch 1: Chercher midi à quatorze heure

Title: Entre Chien et Loup (At Dusk)  
Part: 1: Chercher midi à quatorze heures  
Author: Ryuu-ACey  
Archive: Azkaban's Lair, wherever (if you ask, I'll probably say yes)  
Summary: Albus Dumbledore revives the Triwizard Tournament in the time of Voldemort's first rising, and sparks fly when werewolf Remus Lupin finds himself snout-to-snout with illegal Animagus Sirius Black, his best friend, and the Tournament itself.  
Spoilers: Er...Through GoF, I think, although there might be bits of OotP.  
Rating: R (language)  
Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine. Technically, one of the girls isn't mine. About the only thing in here that's mine are one-and-a-half characters, and the plot. The characters and world belong to JK and Scholastic and...Warner Brothers? I really don't know, but hope they'll be cool about me taking the kids out to play.  
Originally posted: Fanfiction dot net.  
Notes: This started simpler than even the prologue turned out to be. I was thinking about how I've seen fics where Remus is portrayed as French, for some unfathomable reason, and I thought--so what if he went to Beauxbatons? The next thing I know, I've got Sirius making friends with a shy, trying-to-be-uncaring but really adorable 11-year-old Severus Snape, Remus becoming and Animagus, and, for a reason I still don't quite understand, elves (it's not exactly a glaring thing, I hope; they just snuck in there, because, frankly, elves rock. Even Pratchett's elves, which are freaky). So this is an AU. This is a twist-the-world-on-its-edge AU. I hope. And I hope you enjoy.  
About the Title: It's a terrible French pun, because, of course, it literally means "between dog and wolf", but it's an idiom, and I found it irresistible.  
Warnings: Er...language. Definitely. Also, brazen talk about sex.  
Dedications: samvimes, because _Stealing Harry_ made me love the fandom again, and made me want to do something big again.  
Feedback: Always appreciated.

* * *

"Cub, you've got mail!" In the forest surrounding a small village of wizards and witches, there was a house set apart from the rest, the home of a part-time writer and her husband, a first-generation wizard born into a family of trappers, Raoul Dautry dit Lupin. The writer, a plump, stern-looking woman of about 40, stood at the back door to her house, watching to woods for her son. She was all for boys spending time outside, but he seemed to have been taking the idea too far. She had more than enough grey hairs for a woman her age, and Remus running about in the forest all the time wasn't going to help things.

"Coming, _maman!_" The shout was not too far away, which made the woman, Diandra, wonder for a moment about what her son had been up to. Perhaps with some girl--but she shook her head, discounting the notion. The rest of the village had lived through the uproar when Remus had been bitten, and certainly any girl would have been warned against spending too much time with him.

Besides, her son had never really showed much interest in girls, besides 'Sola' and Yvonne, his two best friends at school. And she was certain that while there might have been interest from one or both of the girls, her son didn't think of them as more than friends, or, at best, family.

She smiled at the thought. The boy had been lucky to find such true friends. He had let slip that they knew of his condition, and afterwards had revealed the many little things they did to help him: Yvonne helped him get rare meat from the kitchens near the full moon, and Solange, who was an expert at Potions, kept a supply of medicines and restoratives in case he had a particularly draining transformation. And both girls kept notes for him when he missed classes, and helped him with his schoolwork (his only real difficulty was Astronomy). One or both had occasionally visited over the summer, with Diandra's blessing.

Thinking of that, she glanced at the letter she'd received. It smelled faintly of raspberries, and was written in an awkward, boxy hand, as if of a person clumsy with small things, or, more likely, someone unused to writing. She sniffed it again, frowning. She knew her son was growing up; he was practically an adult. But that didn't lessen the tight worry that she felt imagining her son starting to date. She was at least justified being worried that the girl didn't know about his lycanthropy, or that she did, or that she thought it was something that could be fixed...

But maybe she should just trust her son. He was responsible, knew what he was doing...and knew a caring, loving girl who would probably happily put a crossbow bolt through the skull of anyone who broke his heart.

Remus appeared from the edge of the forest, jogging towards the house. He waved to his mother, and sped up to reach her side. "Hello, _maman_." He paused, looking at her expectantly, but Diandra didn't speak at once, taking a moment to reflect on how her son had changed in six years.

His lycanthropy had once been a drain on his body's resources; every full moon left him weak and bed-ridden. However, as he had aged, the Lupins had watched their son blossom, gaining not only muscle mass and endurance, but also a set of reflexes that had won him a position on Beauxbatons' Quidditch team. Collette Molyneux, Remus' caseworker from the French Ministry of Magic, was pleased with transformation. Apparently, about one in a thousand werewolves, over the course of five to ten years from their original infection, began to integrate their lupine qualities into their everyday lives. This not only made transformations easier, but granted the werewolf, in addition to the night-vision, hearing, and sense of smell all werewolves gained, improved stamina and strength, as the body began to take on more qualities of a pure wolf.

Remus, balanced on the balls of his feet, but when his mother seemed unlikely to simply hand him his mail, he darted forward, first feinting and then snatching the piece of paper from her hands. He backed off, eyes apologetic while at the same time glittering with the gold color they'd gained as he'd entered puberty and the edge of adulthood. Diandra had read that real wolves were born with blue eyes, and when they grew up, they took on their _real_ color. She wondered if Remus had always been meant to be like this, and the blue-eyed angel she'd once known had simply matured into this strong, healthy, gold-eyed creature.

Remus laughed, and pulled the letter open, eyes scanning it thoroughly, but not quickly. She suspected he was a little nearsighted, and while he read fine, it seemed that Remus always needed a little extra time to really see the words.

Diandra didn't want to be nosy; she really didn't. But she really wanted to know what girl was sending her son scented letters. "Cub, who sent that to you? Is there a girl you're not telling your _maman_ about?"

Remus looked up at her suddenly, looking a little startled. Then he grinned again. "It's nothing like that, _maman_. This is a letter from Madam Maxime. She says that she, Albus Dumbledore, and Sasha Koldunev have agreed to revive the...Triwizard Tournament. She says the seventh-year students are going to Hogwarts, where we're going to compete."

Diandra grabbed the letter from her son, scanning the same lines he had just summarized. Indeed, it said exactly what he'd announced. The Triwizard Tournament? This was ridiculous; students had nearly _died_ before it had finally been cancelled. "I won't have you participating in this. It's too dangerous! It's too..." She'd trailed off at the hopeful look in her son's eyes, and knew she wouldn't be able to argue with him. The best she'd be able to manage would be getting Raoul to make him promise to _be careful_, and even that wouldn't do much. Under the influence of Solange, Remus had a tendency to forget promises to stay out of trouble, or be back by nine on the dot. But she thought it would be important to make sure he wouldn't have a chance of having his hopes crushed.

"I won't say you can't try to be a part of this Remus, but I want you to remember that only one student from each participating school may be a Champion, and the chances of you being that student is quite low. There are, after all, quite a number of capable students in your class."

But Remus had hugged her, thanked her profusely, and told his _maman_ that he _would_ be the Beauxbatons Champion, and Diandra almost thought he might be right. With that sort of drive, he could accomplish anything, she thought to herself.

* * *

Sirius Black didn't understand how silence could be so loud. Even when Severus was annoyed at him (which he was, almost constantly) and was trying to ignore Sirius in favor of doing homework (Sirius had tried, with little success, to drive away his best friend's unhealthy pallor over the past six years; the boy insisted on spending the nicest days indoors with books, and only got outside when Sirius dragged him or when Slytherin had a Quidditch game), it was a companionable silence. Sirius suspected it was because Severus hadn't the practice to generate the intense, empty silence of a woman who disapproved of her son and was waiting for him to see the light and turn his life around. His mother, Ara Black (Sirius suspected her father had only married her because her name fit with the family; it was either that or her unnatural constitution, that bore her two healthy sons), sat at the head of the dining room table. Sirius, of course, sat three seats down.

This was because his "saintly" father, though dead, deserved the best place, and Regulus sat at the next seat down. If Sirius had more siblings, or if his grandparents were still alive, or if Ara could justify placing her cousin higher at the table than her progeny, she would have. Ara was a master of the subtleties of insult, and while she couldn't manage to infuriate her son, he got the message.

"Sirius, it's your last year at Hogwarts."

Sirius nodded, taking a sip of his soup--an ungodly concoction he suspected Kreacher had mixed with dishwater. It was best to pretend to be paying attention to Ara up until you actually knew where she was going. That way, you at least knew how long you would be in her foul graces.

She didn't have the scouring candle, so she wasn't immediately considering wiping his name off of the family tapestry. She hadn't threatened to do _that_ since he'd defended Andromeda's choice to marry a "foul, clumsy oaf of a Mudblood".

"You'll finally be a fully qualified wizard. Finally be able to make your own choices in life."

Sirius sucked in a breath, and almost inhaled a spoonful of soup. So it was going to be _that_ lecture.

"Your father was a Black, Sirius. _Toujours pur_. 'Always pure'. Our family has alone stood at the border between Wizard and Muggle, keeping the two separate, as they were intended by God. For did he not speak to the Muggles, 'You shall not allow a witch to live'? And did he not speak unto us, 'By the wand or the rod or the staff or the word, guide and protect, but let not them see your hand'?"

Sirius bent lower, trying to hide the burning fury in his eyes. He'd listened to his mother's interpretations of the _Prospero Bible_ too many times to feel any love for her god, and felt envy for his classmates who thought God was kind, loving, or, Heaven help them, forgiving.

Frankly, if _she_ was guaranteed a spot in Heaven, he would be happier in Hell, thank you very much. Besides, he'd already promised to keep Severus company; between being an agnostic and harboring 'unnatural lusts', they were both certain he was going to get at least an eon down there.

"Now, I of course find no fault in your choice of allies. Severus Snape is of an old and respected family. Certainly, there are rumors about some of his ancestors, but it is strong blood in him. And there is no shame in seeking to make an ally of the Potters. _However--_" Sirius winced. How could she manage to make that word sound so vile? "I have heard rumors about the boy. That he's taken leave of his senses and gotten mixed up with a filthy little vixen of a Mudblood. But I'm sure you'd have sorted him out if _that_ sort of thing was going on."

_'Yes; I told him to stop bloody well acting like an arse and show Lily he was worth dating so we could all stop hearing about it,'_ Sirius thought, knowing that speaking the words would only enrage his mother. If she were getting her information from Regulus, as he thought she was, she knew about it anyway, and was just pushing his buttons. He toyed again with the idea of leaving, but he wouldn't dream of imposing on Severus, who had a hard enough time with his father's passing without Sirius around making trouble. And he really didn't have anywhere else to go.

"And that brings me to my point, Sirius. You are coming to the time when a choice must be made. When you must make a decision about not only _your_ future, but the future of the entire Wizarding world, as well. Perhaps even more than that." She didn't say more about _what_, specifically. It was the careful language that certain parents had started to use, speaking about associates and opportunities, and duty, yes, always _duty_, as if they weren't talking about murder and terror and the same bullshit they had gone through _forty fucking years ago!_ Lily had shown him a Muggle book on genetics, last spring, and Sirius found himself often wondering if it was inbreeding that made the Old Purebloods so fucking stupid. Muggles, at least, had the excuse that in forty years, most of a generation could die off. However, he knew for a fact that his mother had been a debutante in the years leading up to Grindewald, who, frankly, had been a lot better than his Muggle ally, because at least Grindewald encouraged his followers to really _hate_ people, instead of this 'cleansing' bullshit.

Maybe the Wizarding world was just catching up to the Muggle one, finally getting their own Adolph Hitler. And then he realized Ara Black had been talking and _he hadn't been listening._

"--into the realm of Necromancy, and I _know_ you're fascinated with the Dark Arts, Sirius."

"Yes, Mother. Defense _Against_ the Dark Arts," Sirius said between gritted teeth.

"Oh, of course that's what you study, Sirius, because that blasted school won't teach you anything _useful_, but I _told_ your father to let me pull the strings to get you into Durmstrang. And then the bastard died and it was in his _will_, and how was I supposed to go against his last wishes? But every Black in history has studied Defense, and it's a perfectly respectable field of study, but certainly not the sort of thing that can change the world."

_'No, just not the way you want it,'_ Sirius thought bitterly, glad that he'd taken the time to determine his mother had never learned Legilimency. It was bad enough to have a woman that knew you well enough to have found most of your secret stashes without her actually being able to read your mind.

He sent out a sympathetic thought for any child whose mother _was_ a Legilimens, knowing the poor sod could use all the help he could get.

But his mother's tone was shifting, and Sirius recognized the warning signs. He resisted the urge to roll on his back in front of her. First, the canine gesture would raise questions Sirius didn't want to answer. And second, he wasn't entirely certain exposing his 'soft underbelly' to Ara Black would be a good idea. She had been a Beater at Durmstrang, and he didn't doubt she could still wield a bat with lethal accuracy.

"I don't understand why you've been fighting me over this, Sirius. You're a _Slytherin_. You're expected to be interested in the Dark Arts and respect purity of blood. You're expected to be willing to do anything to get what you want. How can you sit there and tell me you'd pass up this opportunity?"

"Because I'm not a fucking _sheep_, mother," Sirius hissed. "There was only one thing Salazar Slytherin respected, and that was ambition. I have it in my ambition to be the best bloody Auror in the entire bloody Ministry of Magic, and that means I'm going to _be_ the best fucking Auror in the entire fucking world, and nothing you, or Kreacher, or Regulus, say will change that."

His mother stared at him for an interminable, tense minute, before she spat at him. The spittle landed on the table, near his fork, but the intent was clear. "You want to be an Auror? Spending your pitifully short life protecting Mudbloods and blood traitors against those of us with real magic in our veins? Let me tell you something, Sirius: Voldemort will win this war. He will trample over anyone who stands in his way, and he will cleanse this world of the filth that stains it. And I will warn you now: if you turn your back on him now, you will not get another opportunity. Your cousin has already made her choice, and your brother understands what is best for our family. If you insist on this foolishness, expect no mercy from the Dark Lord. And...if you would insist on pursuing this path, you will be a traitor to your own blood. _Toujours pur,_ Sirius."

Sirius knocked his chair aside, shooting to his feet. "I'm sick and tired of hearing that crap! _Pure?_ Let me tell you something, you hateful old bitch! There is nothing pure about you or this family. Do you know who the first Black was? He was a Roman soldier, and his motto came from his purity of purpose, to protect the citizens of the Empire--Wizard _and_ Muggle. And I've realized that the only people worth a damn in this family are those that have been burned off of the Tapestry." At his mother's wrathful gaze, Sirius gave a cocky grin, displaying a courage he didn't feel. "Don't get up; I'll do it myself, _Mrs. Black, ma'am._" Before the startled woman could rise, Sirius stormed into the library, where the Tapestry hung. He snapped the first curse that came to mind, _Reducto_, and blasted a hole the size of a dinner plate in the fabric. Along with Sirius, Ara Black, Regulus Black, Reginald Black, and Bellatrix Lestrange (nee Black) were blasted from the family tapestry.

Sirius heard a horrified gasp from behind him. He began giggling, a mad, terrified sound that only heightened his awareness of his mother's slow, menacing steps towards him. He did not hear the sound of her wand being removed from its silk pocket, but he knew his mother needed no wand to inflict pain on others.

She stopped, only a foot from him. "I've called the Law Enforcement Squad, _sir._ If you leave this place immediately, I may decide not to ask them to pursue you. If I ever see your face again, however, I assure you that you will rot in Azkaban until even the Dementors forget you!" With that, Ara Black, widowed mother of one, whirled on her heel and stalked from the library.

* * *

James Potter looked at the figure standing at his front door. The tall boy was soaked, water dripping from his black hair, his ponytail looking nothing except a black snake draped across his shoulder. He wasn't grinning; instead, he had a strange, sullen expression on his face, and his eyes held little of their normal sparkle. James' father, who worked for the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, had his hand rested on Sirius' other shoulder.

"Dad? What's--?"

"No time for that," the elder Potter said jovially. "Come on, Jamie, you know better than to stand in the door blocking the way when we've got a soaked guest waiting to come in."

"Guest?" James squeaked. "But--"

"No complaints, boy. Now Sirius, take your things upstairs; I'm afraid we haven't much room, so you'll be sharing James' room, unless you mind, of course, Jamie."

James mutely shook his head, trying to figure out exactly what was going on as Sirius trudged upstairs, leaving a trail of water along the carpet. Sirius' trunk was overflowing and looked as if it had packed in a hurry. Sirius himself looked as if he'd been in the rain for hours, and had forgotten a water-repelling charm. When the thumping of Sirius' trunk hitting the stairs died away, and the teenager had vanished into Sirius' room, presumably to get dry clothes and maybe nip into the bathroom for a shower, James' father nodded at his son and led him into the sitting room. Mrs. Potter glanced up from a book on Complex Transfigurations, and smiled at her husband and son.

"Good to see you're finally home, Roman. I was worried when you were late. It wasn't..._You-Know-Who_, was it?"

The black-haired man shook his head. "No, nothing of the sort, Mary; I've just spent the last hour tracking down Sirius Black." Mary Potter's eyes widened, and she lifted a hand to her mouth.

"You were called to track down a _child?_" she demanded. "What in God's name did he _do?_"

Roman gave a slight smile, even though his eyes showed he was trying not to cry. "He blasted Ara's name off of the Black Family Tapestry, taking himself, his brother, and that vile Lestrange woman with it. When we got there, she was trying to enchant his last name off of his birth certificate, and Sirius was nowhere to be found. We stopped her from hurting herself trying to magic something from the Department of Records and I left Frank to take down most of the story while I tracked down the boy. I found him in Diagon Alley, drenched to the bone, and looking like a lost dog, so I offered to let him stay with us."

"The poor darling!" Mary exclaimed, dropping her book and rising to her feet, probably intent on hugging Sirius to death and then making him a dinner that could feed the entire Aurors division of the Ministry. "I always worried what that family would do to a nice boy like him; I can't help but think he's better off here, horrible as that sounds. James, run out to the garden and get us some potatoes; I'll--"

She froze, staring at the arch to the main hall, where Sirius was standing. He was still wet and still looked miserable, and was holding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

"Can I use your owl?" he asked, after a moment of silence.

"Whatever for? You're soaking wet and need to get out of those clothes before you catch a cold!"

"But..." Sirius held up the piece of paper helplessly, shrugged, and dropped it, wandering back upstairs. Mary nudged James after him, hoping a familiar presence would at least help the boy find enough direction to get warm and dry. Then she bent down to pick up the paper; it was a letter, addressed to 'Severus Snape', in shaky handwriting. Shaking her head, she took the letter to Fama, their owl, who gave Mary a reproachful look before taking off in the steady rain that had been coming down all day.

Then she sat down to allow herself the mental space to get used to the fact that now she had two children, at least until Sirius was able to stand on his own.

* * *


	3. Ch 1:2: Chercher midi à quatorze heures

Title: Entre Chien et Loup (At Dusk)  
Part: 1.5: Chercher midi à quatorze heures  
Author: Ryuu-ACey  
Archive: Azkaban's Lair, wherever (if you ask, I'll probably say yes)  
Summary: Albus Dumbledore revives the Triwizard Tournament in the time of Voldemort's first rising, and sparks fly when werewolf Remus Lupin finds himself snout-to-snout with illegal Animagus Sirius Black, his best friend, and the Tournament itself.  
Spoilers: Er...Through GoF, I think, although there might be bits of OotP.  
Rating: R (language)  
Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine. Technically, one of the girls isn't mine. About the only thing in here that's mine are one-and-a-half characters, and the plot. The characters and world belong to JK and Scholastic and...Warner Brothers? I really don't know, but hope they'll be cool about me taking the kids out to play.  
Originally posted: Fanfiction dot net.  
Notes: This started simpler than even the prologue turned out to be. I was thinking about how I've seen fics where Remus is portrayed as French, for some unfathomable reason, and I thought--so what if he went to Beauxbatons? The next thing I know, I've got Sirius making friends with a shy, trying-to-be-uncaring but really adorable 11-year-old Severus Snape, Remus becoming and Animagus, and, for a reason I still don't quite understand, elves (it's not exactly a glaring thing, I hope; they just snuck in there, because, frankly, elves rock. Even Pratchett's elves, which are freaky). So this is an AU. This is a twist-the-world-on-its-edge AU. I hope. And I hope you enjoy.  
About the Title: It's a terrible French pun, because, of course, it literally means "between dog and wolf", but it's an idiom, and I found it irresistible.  
Warnings: Er...language. Definitely. Also, brazen talk about sex.  
Dedications: samvimes, because _Stealing Harry_ made me love the fandom again, and made me want to do something big again.  
Feedback: Always appreciated.

* * *

Severus Snape was not the type to worry. Or, at least, to not let others see him worry. He could count on one hand the number of people who had ever seen him nervous about anything, and there was only one person in the world who had ever seen Severus cry.

That said person was now disowned and living with a friend that was not Severus was the reason Severus was worrying. The shaky, rain-soaked note explained a bit of it, and the later Floo conversation with Mr. Potter explained a little more, but the fact remained Sirius' mother had thrown him out of the house, and Sirius hadn't immediately come to him. He was seriously considering going to the Potters' so he could properly shout at his friend.

"Severus? Are you all right?" Severus started, realizing that staring into the fireplace was not the healthiest of behaviors, and probably indicative of something worrying. He turned around, pushing himself to his feet, to meet his mother's gaze. It had been said that Severus was very nearly a duplicate of his mother, and much of it was true. Her hair had begun to grey decades ago, and she had taken on a bit of weight over the past few months, but there was the overlong nose, the stringy black hair, and hovering-on-the-edge-of-disdainful expression that made them easily recognizable as mother and son.

Severus began to nod, but halfway through, froze, and shook his head, a trifle uncertainly. Black eyes unused to expressing concern softened, and Eileen Snape pulled her son into a tight embrace. Life had been difficult for them the past year; her husband, consumed by one of the few Muggle illnesses wizards could not cure, had begun wasting away, to finally fail at the end of the school year, bringing Severus home early for the preparations, the funeral, and the realization that they would not quite land on their feet. He had spent most of the summer working in a small potions shop in Binhaggle Alley, while his mother had turned to her own specialty, harvesting the plants in her garden for use in magical supply shops. They would probably get through this, but it had been rough on both of them.

And so, he'd promised not to make trouble for his mother, and while she wasn't a Legilimens, she had a touch of the Sight, and tended to catch people's emotions as scents. A person who was lying, she'd told him once, smelt like burning hair, and so Severus tried his hardest not to lie to her.

Of course, he tried not to mention the fact that the Snape line would probably die out with him, and as he hadn't exactly found any blokes willing to take up with him other than Igor Karkaroff (though Sirius had offered once or twice, 'just to help a friend out'), he was able to usually get away by saying he simply hadn't found himself a girlfriend, which was true.

But he couldn't lie to her about being upset, because he was, and she'd probably smelt it anyway, like the air after a dreary rain, mildewy and somewhat stuffy.

"It's Sirius. His mum's kicked him out of the house."

Being empathetic had given Mrs. Snape a talent in keeping her feelings inside, but Severus recognized the imperceptible slump in her shoulders; she was going to offer to take Severus' friend in, even though they were barely making it themselves.

"It's all right, mother. Roman Potter was one of the Aurors she called to make sure he stayed out, and he brought Sirius back to their home. It's just..." He trailed off, uncertain how to say it. Severus had built a careful wall between himself and most of the rest of the world. He wouldn't care, and the rest of the world would ignore him. But Sirius Black snuck inside that wall, and it was embarrassing to admit, even to his mother, that he gave a damn about what _anyone_ thought, even if that person was his best friend. "He should have come to me, first. When Dad got sick, I talked it out with Sirius. When I realized I--I tell him everything, and if he's my best friend, he should have asked me for help, first."

His mother was giving him a teary look, blinking rapidly, but smiling at the same time. "What?" he demanded, irritated at this display. She was supposed to comfort him, take his side, and help him figure this out! Not...sit there tearing up like that.

She grabbed him in a bone-crunching embrace, the tears flowing freely. "I'm proud of you, Severus. I never thought you'd dare admit caring about other people, or that you'd ever let anybody help you. I'm just...happy that you've the sense to have someone like Sirius in your life." She pushed him to arm's length, and gave him a sloppy smile. "And I think Sirius is a better friend than you think. I think he didn't want to burden us, kitten. I think he knew you'd take him in without a second thought, and knew it wouldn't be good for you." She released her son, and, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, started for the kitchen. "You should thank whoever you were in your past life, Severus, for earning you someone like that." Then she paused, and turned about to face her son one last time. "And kitten, don't let anything ruin this for you. Good friends are hard to come by."

Severus dreamt. He had never taken much stock in Divinations. He left that sort of thing to Peter Pettigrew, who was quite good at divining simple things like where he'd left his socks, and Sibyll Trelawney, who was prone to predicting people's horrible, violent deaths. She'd been insisting for the past year and a half that the Grim stalked Severus.

Of course, this was technically true, as Padfoot had an aggravating habit of spending most of their nights in the Forbidden Forest trying to catch Nightcat by surprise.

But he had been 13, and sneaking about the Library after dark (unlike Black, who took delight in breaking all rules, Severus came to the Library at night because it was the only time he could get reading done in quiet), when he'd heard a strange noise in the Restricted Section. He'd learned how to bypass the locks on the door in his second year (finding most of the Potions materials in the main library too juvenile to be of any use), so in the interests of making sure he wasn't being watched by some holier-than-thou Gryffindor, he'd slipped past the locked gates to the odd little nook that contained the most powerful and dangerous books on Divination. There, seated on a large squashy chair of the ugliest color Severus had ever seen, was a man.

He did not look like a wizard, and Severus strongly suspected he would object to being called such. The man was dressed in a brown robe, with a hood that draped over his eyes. The man didn't seem to mind, however, because his attention was focused solely on the tome he held in his lap.

It was not like any other book Severus had seen. He _knew_ it was not a Muggle book, but the way it twisted the light around it, he also knew its magic was not that of Wizard books, either.

He wondered, briefly, if this man was a Sorcerer. Their magic, born of the blood and stone, was rare, incomprehensible, and usually heralded times of great upheaval.

But, while the man carried an air of always being on the verge of turning a corner, he did not fit the typical description of a sorcerer.

Except for the fact that he obviously was not, the man seemed to be very mundane.

So Severus dreamed of this memory, of the man in the Library, and his book, which held more fascination than even the deepest secrets locked away in the grimoires of wizards. This man had taught him how to speak to the books, how to navigate and appease them, and other secrets of the ways of knowledge. Sometimes, Severus thought it had all been a dream...but first, what was the difference, when you walked in silence among tomes of magic? And second, Severus had found the Library spoke to him, giving him what he needed, rather than what he wanted, guiding his footsteps amongst the shelves, and sending him even to the most secret tomes it protected.

The man looked up. "Hello, Severus Snape."

"Hello, sir." Severus found it practical to be polite to someone who was an unknown factor, and this man had never volunteered any information. The man tilted his head, as if examining Severus.

"I find it difficult, to read who you are, Severus Snape. Are you the boy, or the man? Have you yet fallen from grace, and lost all you held dear? Or been redeemed? Or have you yet dared the forbidden, that against which I warned you? I cannot tell, for at this moment, you are all of these men, and none of them. Tell me who you are, Severus."

Severus gulped. "My father has died, and my best friend disowned by his family. I have not yet begun my last year at Hogwarts." The man chuckled.

"Yes, I remember. The scars of this year never fully faded..." He lowered his head, returning to his book. "Tell me, Severus, do you think that love is forever?"

"W-what?"

"There is no word to describe what you feel for Sirius Black. Brother, perhaps, comes close, or _aibou_. But do you believe these bonds are eternal, unbreakable? Or are they transitory things, like cobwebs in summer? Or is it all an illusion, to blind us to the intolerable cruelty of the world?"

Severus fell to his knees, shuddering and shivering with his whole body. "Why are you talking like this? Sirius is--"

"A man, nothing more. Perhaps the only love you will ever have in your life. Someday, I believe he may be your direst enemy. But what of this love? What is it?"

"Stop it," Severus whimpered, trying to block out the man's words. "Stop it..."

The man leaned close, his voice low and whispering, sounding like rustling paper. "I will share a secret with you, Severus Snape. Love is nothing more than a random firing of certain neuro-chemicals in our brains, putting the mind in an altered state; it is no different than a drug-induced haze, through which one may see the world. And this dream is no more than a random collection of subconscious fears and obsessions coming to the surface while your conscious mind is weakened. And somehow, knowing that will not make you feel any better."

* * *

While the rest of the Beauxbatons students were leaving on the regular train, the seventh-year students stood around, waiting for the Three PM train to Hogwarts. It was meant to give them an opportunity to get used to the idea of Hogwarts without being directly exposed to the students of the British institution.

Madam Maxime had very definite ideas of what to expect from a _British_ school, and she wanted her students to be prepared. There were pamphlets for the girls, which were supposed to warn them against the immoralities of British boys, which had only, Remus suspected, given them ideas, if Yvonne and Solange were any sample from which to base an assumption.

"It says here that if a boy asks us to meet him in the Library or behind the greenhouses, it means he wants to snog, and if he asks us to the Astronomy Tower, it means he's hoping we'll put out." Solange pursed her lips, concentrating on the paper she held. "It doesn't say anything about what a girl's supposed to do if she wants a _boy_ to put out."

Yvonne peered over Solange's shoulder, scanning the page. "We're probably not supposed to do that sort of thing; I bet the boys expect us to be naive girls who have no idea that 'show you something in the Library' means 'let me put my hand down your skirt'. Does she say what you're supposed to do if you can't enter a room without causing every male present to experience a burning desire to father your children? I somehow feel that might be more helpful to you, Solange."

"No, but there's something here about a burning sensation when you--"

"Will you two _please_ stop?" Remus pleaded. His ears and cheeks were a deep scarlet, and his hair, unbound, hung across his eyes. If only no one looked over here, he could maintain his dignity. He hadn't been this embarrassed since the 'birds and the bees' discussion they'd had with him fourth year, when they had taken brief detours to give a very detailed explanation of the birds' portion, and a long, wistful portion on the bees and the bees. It was slightly worrying to know that if a bloke _was_ to take it into his head to pursue Remus, he at least had enough theoretical bases to not embarrass himself completely.

He'd tried to enforce a 'no sex talk around Moony' rule, but he didn't have the heart to actually fight them on the point, and suspected it went against some natural order for a boy to actually get his two best female friends to listen to him.

Besides, with Solange in the room, it was nearly impossible for _other_ people to think about much else than sex. Remus was given to understand most of the male faculty at Beauxbatons had been given a counter-pheromone by the Potions Master, but despite her best efforts, Solange radiated a low-level aura of lust at all times. Remus was used to it, and once he'd gotten past the beginning of puberty and had some embarrassingly frank talks with his father, had learned to deal with it. It wasn't as if he'd _really_ like to snog her; she just, as Moony had noticed upon meeting her, smelled heavenly.

"Would you rather us talk about what _you're_ going to get up to while we're there?" Yvonne asked, all innocent curiosity and wearing a somber, passionless expression. "You know, my cousin went to Hogwarts. He said you live in one room with the same boys for seven years." Her eyes glittered dangerously. Remus could see the edges of her mouth twitch up, and he wondered what he'd done to deserve this.

"I'm not going to help you satisfy your curiosity about homosexuality," Remus said darkly.

Solange placed a hand over her heart, eyes widening to take a scandalized expression. "Remus! _Really!_ To even suggest we would _think_ a thing like that! I am sure Yvonne was only commenting upon how crowded Hogwarts must be."

"It must be impossible to find a moment of privacy," the dark-haired girl commented, no trace of double meanings in her voice or face.

"They must be terribly wound up," Solange said dreamily. "Desperate for satisfaction..." Her face suddenly split in a terrific grin. "I can't wait. Except, apparently their social events are rather sparse. We're going to have to fix that. How're your decorating charms, Moony?"

"After all the practice you two gave me last year?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in a deliberately provocative manner. "I'm not entirely certain I've gotten the hang of it. Pea-green and salmon would be an excellent color scheme, don't you think?"

"You...you _boy!_" Solange snapped, slapping the back of Remus' head. He felt a slight tingle in the back of his mind as the wolf awoke and made a mental note to cuff Redtail, Solange's vulpine counterpart, the next time they snuck from the castle to explore, play, and generally make nuisances of themselves. Moony, after all, was the alpha of the pack, and female or not, Redtail did not get away with treating him like she could bat him around. "You're just afraid to admit you know what seafoam green looks like. That's the trouble with boys, Yvonne; they'd do anything to keep from looking like nancys."

Yvonne rolled her eyes. "As long as doesn't ruin any event I try to run, I don't care if he insists on snogging Madam Maxime on top of a dinner table." There was a long pause as the three teenagers tried to picture this, and failing miserably to actually imagine Remus kissing the headmistress of Beauxbatons--not that she wasn't, in her own way, attractive, but merely that Remus couldn't reach that high.

"Come on now, my darlings, the train's leaving in a few minutes!" The call from the woman in question startled them back to reality, and Remus, leading the trio in as much an effort to get away from Madam Maxime (whom he doubted he could ever look at the same way again) as to get to Hogwarts sooner, hurried to the back cars, tugging his belongings after him on squeaking wheels.

The three had barely gotten themselves settled into an unoccupied compartment at the very rear car before the train shifted, letting out a sharp whistle as it began to move.

Remus was nearly vibrating in his seat. Even since he'd gotten the letter from Madam Maxime, he'd been terribly excited. It wasn't so much about the Triwizard Tournament--he could do without it. Something inside him resonated at the thought of going to _Hogwarts_. Of course, he loved Beauxbatons, loved the grand, unbreakable crystal staircase, and his bedroom, with its bed large enough to sleep three and window overlooking the forest. But Hogwarts was something else. Hogwarts was the first of them all, the place where the greats had been taught. There were secret passages, and dozens of ghosts (Beauxbatons had only five, and four of them preferred to spend the day sleeping than haunting anything), and countless stories of magical artifacts and priceless knowledge secreted away within its halls. Remus knew Albus Dumbledore was one of three headmasters who would have welcomed him to his school, knowing Remus was a werewolf, and that made him inclined to like the idea of the school, even if his mother thought to this day that Dumbledore was no better than the rest of the world, seeing her son as a freak and a danger to be tolerated.

He could feel it in his blood that going to Hogwarts would change his life.

So as the train barreled on, Remus smiled, feeling that he was being brought closer to a significant piece of his own destiny.

* * *

"Come on, Peter, let's see it." Peter rolled his eyes, and flipped the first card. He rapidly filled in the rest of the pattern, setting what was, to James, an incomprehensible mash of people doing foolish and meaningless things. James squinted at them, but they refused to give up their meaning to him. Peter, however, was staring at the Tarot cards, eyes half-focused, as if he wasn't really looking at the cards, but something beyond them.

"Well? Am I going to be the Triwizard Champion?" James demanded.

Peter let out a long sigh; then he shook his head. "Nope. Doesn't say anything about you facing great trials."

"What about me breezing through simple trials? Have you considered that I may be so good, the trials will be easy?"

Peter continued to shake his head, laughing. "No, James. You're not going to be the Hogwarts Champion. However, the cards do say you'll finally get laid this year."

There was a long, silent pause, and then James grabbed the other boy by the front of his robes. "Are you joking? You're kidding, right? I don't see that anywhere!" Peter rolled his eyes; of _course_ The Lovers wasn't present.

"I may have exaggerated a bit, James. You're right; The Lovers would tend to indicate a sexual encounter. But this pair here--The World and the Queen of Wands--indicates accomplishment with regards to a red-haired woman..." Peter trailed off, giving James a wide grin. Then he plunged back into one of the few things he did better than James Potter. "Plus, this--the Knight of Cups--is obviously you. It represents hazel eyes, and...Well, we'll just say he's you."

"YES!" James clapped Peter on the back. "I _knew_ your hobby would come in handy someday, Pete! Ha! I can just imagine it: Lily is seated at the table, and I walk up to her, and say, 'Miss Evans, I have it on good authority that you and I are destined to be together.' Let's hear her argue with _that!_"

"Given that she thinks Divination is a waste of time, energy, and tea, I'm thinking that argument won't go over so well. If you will recall, Mr. Potter, March 13, 1974." Sirius Black stepped into the compartment, stepping over Peter's Tarot. "A young, inexperienced James Potter had just learned of the applications of astronomy to Divinations, and thus, asked of Ms. Lily Evans, a single question, that will remain a part of Hogwarts history forever. And I quote: 'Hey, darling, what's your sign?'"

The two other boys winced, James reddening at the memory. "'S not like I _knew_ it was a Muggle pick-up line. She didn't have to do what she did."

Lily Evans had made it abundantly clear what sign she was when she had turned a glance to James Potter, and turned him bright red, Transfiguring his hands into claws for good measure. It had been a brilliant piece of spellwork, and McGonagall had taken five points from Gryffindor for the disruption, only to give Lily ten for advanced Transfiguration.

"So you see, my friend, it will not be as easy as taking Ms. Evans' hand and declaring your undying love. Certainly, the cards expect you to do most of the work."

Peter nodded, and James growled, "Bastards," throwing himself unceremoniously into his seat.

* * *

Severus had paused at the edge of the door when Sirius had stuck his head into James and Peter's conversation, and had almost stepped in after him. But then he'd realized that the boys were laughing and chatting without him, and they were perfectly happy without him, so he'd slipped away, returning to the compartment in which his and Sirius' things were. He sat himself down and found his copy of _Le Morte D'Arthur_ and began reading.

Of course it had begun now, when Sirius was beginning to realize they were growing up. He understood, of course, that Sirius was not going to devote every moment of his life to Severus, and had admitted to himself occasionally that Sirius would have other friends in his life. And he got along well enough with James Potter. They were not, by any means, good friends, but he felt comfortable asking James for favors, and was willing to help James or Peter, if they needed it.

But he had always felt a little feeling that if it weren't for Severus, Sirius would be best friends with James, and now that they were living under the same roof, it was like Destiny telling him quite clearly that the sort of happiness afforded to a person who had people who loved him was not the fate meant for Severus Snape.

Because Sirius and James could pull pranks, and laugh together, and Severus was quiet and dour and would rather read than play Quidditch, Severus had always assumed it would only be a matter of time before Sirius Black realized there were better friends than Severus Snape.

As usual when it came to Sirius Black, however, Severus Snape couldn't be more wrong.

He'd barely gotten through Nicolas Flamel's Preface when Sirius appeared at the door, looking peeved, worried, and apologetic at the same time. "Why'd you vanish like that? Are you all right? You could have told me if you wanted to wander off, you know. I'd've come with you."

"It's all right; you were having fun with James." Severus didn't tend to make sharp remarks like that at Sirius, and it must have said something about his state of mind that the acid in his voice was plain.

Sirius' eyes sort of went watery at that statement, and he sat down next to Severus. "Severus, I'd like to tell you something. When I first got on the Hogwarts train, I was terrified. I was going to by a Slytherin; my mum and dad and Bellatrix and Grandpa and everyone said I was. And I knew Slytherins were horrible people without an ounce of common decency, and that it meant I'd be miserable at Hogwarts because I _liked_ people. Except my family, of course. But then I found a kid who _wanted_ to be a Slytherin and seemed like a decent bloke. I figured if we didn't stick together, neither of us would get out of this place without giving up something important."

He took a deep breath. "And Severus, you've been the best friend I ever could have asked for. You're not good with feelings, and I know you don't like talking, but that's all right because I talk enough for two anyway."

"You talk enough for all of Slytherin combined," Severus muttered, eliciting a laugh from Sirius.

"And you see? You're funny, or at least _I_ think you're funny because you don't mean half of the stuff you say. And...I knew you would have taken me in, Severus. But I couldn't--I know it would have been a burden, and don't tell me it wouldn't have been. So...I didn't really have anywhere else to go. I guess I'm lucky Mr. Potter thought to go look for me. But just because his dad's let me stay with him doesn't mean Potter's my best friend. For Merlin's sake, he's a Gryffindor! You, Severus, are my best friend. And I'm serious."

Severus thought about that for a second, and then shot his friend a dark glare.

"Sorry," Sirius said, not looking the least remorseful for the pun. "But it's going to take more than Mrs. Potter's cooking to come between you and me." He slung a friendly arm over Severus' shoulder, leaning against the other boy. "I almost wish..." Severus strained to hear, and then was certain he was mistaken. Sirius couldn't mean it. But he let Sirius sit with him for a while, before he pushed away, carefully folding his book and putting it back in his satchel, in which Severus carried nearly everything he thought he could need during the course of a day.

"Besides," Sirius added, "Who'd protect your honor if I weren't around?"

Severus sputtered, dropping his bag. "Honor?"

"Yeah." Sirius sprawled over his half of the seat, looking inordinately smug. "There's going to be a whole load of new kids at school this year, and, well, those French kids can be terrible sluts. I wouldn't want you getting hurt."

Severus laughed. "You're such a girl, Sirius." Sirius flushed, glaring at his friend. "But I appreciate the thought. However, Sirius Black, I can take care of myself."

"Fine. But remember: if you ever need some ungrateful bloke throttled, I'll be ready and waiting." The flash in Sirius' eyes was both frightening and comforting; Severus had not seen that dangerous glint before, and yet, it was warming to know the other boy would beat someone up for _him._ Of course, he'd beaten up James Potter once or twice for Severus, but that was different somehow. This was...Sirius _caring_ about what happened to Severus.

_'But...is this for real? Or just a passing illusion?'_

* * *

The train carried them to Hogsmeade, and then the carriages brought them to the castle. Sirius saw signs of unusual activity around the castle, unfamiliar wizards, probably from the Ministry, walking around making notes. He saw Professor Cizana standing by a familiar patch of ground, where a distinctly _unfamiliar_ tree stood. Its branches waved gently in the breeze, occasionally flicking out to strike at Professor Cizana, who dodged nimbly out of the way.

"That's a Whomping Willow," Peter whispered in awe. "They're very rare..."

"Wait a minute--isn't that planted over the passage to Hogsmeade?" James demanded.

"Bloody hell!" Sirius snapped. "Do they find some perverse pleasure in denying us access to town?"

"I would assume this is a tactic to keep students from going to Hogsmeade unaccompanied, yes," Severus said in a neutral tone of voice. "Look, we'll just find another way, if you're so upset by it."

James nodded, a little sullenly, and Severus realized he was upset that the secret passage _he_ had found was now useless. Lily Evans was right; James was a bit of a prat. He hoped James figured that out before she decided she found someone she liked better, only because James would be insufferable if Lily found someone better than him.

The rest of the carriage ride was uneventful, and silent, so when they arrived at the Great Hall and split up to their respective tables, Sirius was bristling for conversation.

"When do you think the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will get here?"

"I'm sure I don't know," Severus replied smoothly. "Certainly by the end of the first week." But Sirius would not be deterred by Severus' attempt to limit conversation.

"You think they'll be all right? 'Cause I know Durmstrang is famous for teaching Dark Arts, and my m--I know some people think Beauxbatons makes kids stuck up. But they're our age; they can't be too bad."

Severus rolled his eyes. "The women will be swept off their feet by your charm, and there won't be a man among them who wouldn't want to throw back a Butterbeer with you in Hogsmeade."

Sirius didn't speak for a moment, and then said, accusingly, "You're making fun of me."

"Wouldn't dream of making fun of a Black, Sirius."

"You are. You're sitting next to me, nice as you please, _making fun of me._ I'm hurt, Severus. Truly hurt."

"Shut up, you two," Evan Rosier snapped from across the table. "It's bad enough you consort with Gryffindors without flirting over there."

Severus flushed, and Sirius glared, reaching for his wand. But then Dumbledore, at the Head Table, stood, raising his hands for silence. "Welcome, welcome everyone to Hogwarts. I know we're all excited for another year within these halls, but let us first welcome our new students." The doors opened, admitting the new students, led of course by Professor McGonagall.

Sirius watched with only half-interest, noting that there seemed to be little hope for the Slytherin first-years. Sycophants and pure-blood sheep, the lot of them. He wondered if there was such a thing as real ambition anymore.

After the Sorting, Dumbledore again commanded silence, and looked down upon his charges.

"Now, I know you are all eager to begin the lovely meal the House-Elves have prepared for us, but first, there are several announcements I must make. The first is that this year, as those students old enough to participate have been made aware, Hogwarts is pleased to host for the first time in many years, the Triwizard Tournament. As a result, students from Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang will be attending classes at Hogwarts as their eldest students come to participate. I must implore that each of you endeavor to treat our guests with respect, and to remember that the rivalry of the schools is that of friendly competition, so you should not feel compelled to dislike them."

"Finally, I must ask that students avoid the Whomping Willow so recently planted on the school grounds; it reacts on instinct, and will not hesitate to flatten the unwary. Now, one final thing. While the representatives from Durmstrang will be arriving tomorrow, the students from Beauxbatons have already arrived. So please allow me to introduce to you Madam Maxime and her pupils."

A large woman, nearly the size of Hagrid, entered through the doors of the Main Hall, followed by approximately a dozen students dressed in blue and silver silk robes. They were talking amongst themselves, but slowly trailed off at the sight of the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling and the assembled students of Hogwarts.

Sirius' breath caught when his gaze fell on one of the students. She was taller than average, though shorter than the boy and girl walking with her, and while was not _well_-endowed, carried an indefinable aura of attractiveness about her. Her lips, a pale, almost luminescent pink, were curved up in a smile, and green eyes sparkled with amusement. A waist-length braid hung across her left shoulder, and her delicate, feminine features were passive. Next to Sirius, Severus' mouth had dropped open. Sirius grinned, and nudged his friend in the ribs.

"Ha; so even _you_ can appreciate real beauty in a woman, eh, Snape?"

"What?" Severus asked, dazed. "I wasn't looking at her," he said, scornfully. "Look next to her." Sirius glanced at the girl's companions. One, a very tall, pale-skinned, black-haired woman with sharp blue eyes and hair woven behind her, placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder, and leaned in to whisper to her. The other one--

Well, it made more sense. The teen was nearly taller than the black-haired woman, but was slenderer. He had warm golden eyes, and a gold-brown head of hair that draped to his shoulderblades. Sirius gave Severus a smirk.

"What did I say about those French boys, Severus? Heartbreakers, every one." Severus didn't respond to Sirius' jab, entranced by the boy standing at the front of the Hall.

* * *

Author's Notes: This story keeps doing things I didn't expect. To be honest, I sort of wanted Severus to have encountered a Librarian, but chickened out and put in a generic sort of Destiny. I also didn't mean to be so cruel to him, except that it's hard to write something in which Severus has a normal, well-adjusted childhood.

I really didn't expect the yelling at Ara Black (whose name means 'The Altar', another constellation fitting of the Black name) or the Tapestry.

To the reviewers:

**Bhangra Santa**-Thanks; I'm following the timelines given at The Harry Potter Lexicon, so 1977-1978 will be their seventh year at school.

**embersandenvelopes**-'Smiles sweetly'; I'm not telling. But you can probably guess at least part of what's going on from this part.

**Tsuki no Lomelinde**-Thanks for the compliment.

**satin insanity**-Again, I'm not telling. But stick around, please, and find out.

**Boredom is my middle name**-Sorry there's less Remus in this chapter, but I'll try to fit in more next time. I'm beginning to think I need a third 'main character' option, because of how Severus is sneaking in to steal parts of the show. But next chapter, we'll _definitely_

**dancing in daydreams**-Glad to see you like it. I'm a little embarrassed to realize how much I've been putting in chapters, and hope this was a little better.

* * *


	4. Ch 2: Un Coup de Foudre

Title: Entre Chien et Loup (At Dusk)  
Part: 2: Un Coup de Foudre  
Author: Ryuu-ACey  
Archive: Azkaban's Lair, wherever (if you ask, I'll probably say yes)  
Summary: Albus Dumbledore revives the Triwizard Tournament in the time of Voldemort's first rising, and sparks fly when werewolf Remus Lupin finds himself snout-to-snout with illegal Animagus Sirius Black, his best friend, and the Tournament itself.  
Spoilers: Er...Through GoF, I think, although there might be bits of OotP.  
Rating: R (language, mature themes)  
Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine. Technically, one of the girls isn't mine. About the only thing in here that's mine are one-and-a-half characters, and the plot. The characters and world belong to JK and Scholastic and...Warner Brothers? I really don't know, but hope they'll be cool about me taking the kids out to play.  
Originally posted: Fanfiction dot net.  
Notes: This started simpler than even the prologue turned out to be. I was thinking about how I've seen fics where Remus is portrayed as French, for some unfathomable reason, and I thought--so what if he went to Beauxbatons? The next thing I know, I've got Sirius making friends with a shy, trying-to-be-uncaring but really adorable 11-year-old Severus Snape, Remus becoming and Animagus, and, for a reason I still don't quite understand, elves (it's not exactly a glaring thing, I hope; they just snuck in there, because, frankly, elves rock. Even Pratchett's elves, which are freaky). So this is an AU. This is a twist-the-world-on-its-edge AU. I hope. And I hope you enjoy.  
About the Title: It's a terrible French pun, because, of course, it literally means "between dog and wolf", but it's an idiom, and I found it irresistible.  
Warnings: Language, discussion of mature themes, (possibly) eventual "action" of some sort.  
Dedications: samvimes, because _Stealing Harry_ made me love the fandom again, and made me want to do something big again.  
Feedback: Always appreciated.

* * *

The other boys had gone to sleep; their light snoring was dampened by the enchanted tapestries on the walls, but the noise was still there. Severus stared up at the canopy of his bed, unable to sleep.

Quite suddenly, his curtains were shoved aside long enough to admit one Sirius Black, who crawled onto the bed, dressed in black pajamas.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" Severus demanded as he sat up. "What if one of the others saw? What would they think?"

"First," Sirius said, twirling his wand cockily about, "They're not going to see anything; I've set a Narcolapse Charm about the place. Second, sod what they think. I know where I stand with you, and if anyone else wants to complain about it, they'll find themselves at the wrong end of a conflict with a Black." He flashed his best friend a grin. "I wasn't about to let you get off easy, Snape. I saw you talking to that boy. Who is he? What did you say to him? Am I finally losing you to a chap who's more attractive than me?"

Severus glared; he was quite good at it. But then there was a quiet 'whuff', and a large black dog, looking something like a small bear, was sitting on Severus' bed, looking at him with soulful black eyes that said, 'I only want to help'. Severus briefly wondered what gave Sirius the ability to be _more_ expressive when he lost the use of his vocal cords.

He sighed.

"Very well. If you insist on pestering me...His name is Remus Dautry. He's studying Defense, like you. He wants to become an Ecour, sort of a French Auror. He's abominable at Potions, is fascinated with History, and I asked him if he'd like me to show him around the Library."

* * *

"...Well?"

"Well what?" Remus didn't look up from the book on vampires he'd picked up in the train station. Yvonne placed a finger on his forehead, and tilted the werewolf's face up so that he was looking at her.

"Who was that boy who was talking to you? The one who wanted to know if you liked Potions, what you wanted to do for a living...whether you wanted to go to the _Library_ with him." Remus' face turned a bright red; sputtering, he jerked back away from Yvonne, overturned his chair, and landed with an inelegant sprawl over the silver-and-blue rug that covered the common room's floor. Yvonne hopped onto the overturned chair and looked down at her friend, perched on the top of it like some tall, gangly bird surveying its territory.

"He didn't mean it like that, Yvonne! Besides, how did you hear that? You were across the room!"

Yvonne tapped her pointed ears meaningfully. "These aren't just for show, Moony. It's a well-known fact that elves have hearing superior to that of humans."

"It's also a well-known fact that werewolves mate for life," Remus retorted. "However, research has disproved both of those so-called 'facts.' You spied on me, didn't you?"

"It's not Yvonne's fault, Moony," a silky voice whispered into his ear. "It's just that I was worried that some suave British boy was taking advantage of you, and as you know, I'm _terrible_ at that Lip-Reading Charm, so I asked Yvonne to make sure you weren't being flirted with, or worse, _seduced_." Solange stretched across the rug next to Remus, grinning at the other boy. "And it looks like that Slytherin boy is trying to get into your pants. I'd advise you talk to Madam Maxime about it. Who _knows_ what he wants to do with you." Remus gave the two a wary look, and saw the same curious expression on both faces.

"I told you before, I'm not going to let some boy have his way with me just so you two can hear what it's like. Aren't there books or something on that?"

"Mr. Lupin!" Solange snapped, "We are _ladies!_ We would never dream of reading books like that."

"Besides," Remus muttered, cheeks still tinted red, "What about you? Every boy there was staring at you like they wanted you to meet them in the Astronomy Tower." Solange huffed, pushing herself into a sit, and then slumped forward, letting her chin rest of her hands.

"That's _lust_. That's my natural--" There was a snort from Yvonne. "_Super_natural charms at work. It's like...Like you and Quidditch, Remus. Your body and reflexes are _made_ for chasing small, fast things down. It's the same with me and boys. They swoon, I listen to them brag at me for an hour, and I'm still lonely."

"You know, one out of a thousand wizards is immune to the charms of the veela," Yvonne said from her perch. "They're offered huge sums of money to help small, German villages deal with veela sitting on rocks in the middle of turbulent rivers sending men to their dooms."

"I don't see how that helps _me_," Solange replied. "It still means I've either got to find one of these one-in-a-thousand to still decide I'm worth fighting over, or go over to girls." Remus began coughing violently.

"Oh, that'd be an irony," Yvonne drawled. "I can picture you walking into a bar, have half the man drooling over you, and you walking over to some mousy little thing in the corner and asking if she wants to dance."

"But I think someone has almost successfully managed to divert our conversation from its original topic," Solange said. She tapped Remus' nose sharply, causing the boy to wrinkle his face for a second. "Who exactly was the boy who's trying to get into your robes?"

"He's _not!_" Remus protested. "He's just trying to be friendly."

"Not likely," Yvonne replied. "I saw him yell at a first-year for tripping over her own robes on the stairs. Said she ought to be more careful when she's wandering about the castle that other people use. And I don't think his house-mates like him much; only that one boy seemed willing to talk to him."

"Hm?" Remus asked.

"The handsome one with the ponytail," Yvonne said. "Looks like a Muggle biker."

"Really? I'd imagine him the glam rock type," Solange said, "You know, glitter, makeup...glitter."

Yvonne chuckled. "Really, Sola, you'd make a better impression if you actually knew what you were talking about. Right, Moony?" Moony didn't respond. Yvonne peered at him, and noticed a faint blush on his cheeks. "What's wrong, Moony?" Moony shook his head violently, rose to his feet, and hurried towards the entrance to the guest dormitories the Beauxbatons students had received. Solange stood to follow, but Remus let out a sharp growl, one that clearly indicated a desire to be left alone, so she sat back down, watching as the wall at the end of the passage rotated, briefly revealing a bust of Morgana Le Fey as Remus was spun about into the main hall.

Yvonne dropped onto the rug next to Solange, a small frown on her lips. "You think we did that?"

"Ah, who cares? He just looks like he needs to work off some...aggravation." Solange added a saucy wink, and Yvonne shoved her.

"You're incorrigible, Sola."

"I know. It's part of being descended from an incarnation of lust. I think about it a lot."

* * *

There were not many philosophers who worried about werewolves, but it was generally agreed that Chuang Tzu was talking about a number of things, including, probably werewolves, when he said, "Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly dreaming I am a man." Because for the werewolf, the question of identity became an important one.

As long as Remus remembered, he had felt a sleeping presence inside of him, one that burst forth at the full moon, raging and biting and scratching. It had sometimes overcome him with pure instinct in waking life, slowing bleeding lupine habits into his daily activity. And ever since the Animagus transformation, the wolf inside had begun speaking to Remus.

And he wondered, sometimes, whether the wolf was truly him, or if _Remus_ was truly him, or if there was a bit of him in both, and no way of telling which might have ever been the true Remus Dautry. Or maybe once they had been separate beings, but over time, they would become more and more alike until he would no longer be a man dreaming he was a wolf or a wolf dreaming he was a man, but a consciousness that lived within a body that was man and wolf.

It was intriguing, but ultimately an academic question, because Remus and the wolf lived in harmony, and occasionally neither was quite sure who was reacting to the world.

Except now. This was Remus feeling horribly embarrassed and wanting to get away from everything. So he snuck from the castle, ran across the lawns to the Forbidden Forest, and once there, let go of human restraint and took to the forest as a beast.

His time as an Animagus had given Remus a greater insight into the wolf than being a werewolf had; werewolves tended to lose control and consciousness on the full moon, only to be returned to awareness in the aftermath of the evening. But Animagi were different; they took the shape of the animal and the mind of the human. Except that some people believed that putting your brain in a wolf's body made you think more like a wolf...that if you kept that form too long, you'd be scratching yourself and howling at the moon when you changed back.

Regardless of the risks, being a wolf gave Remus insight into the minds of animals. They didn't get distracted easily; they had goals and desires, and everything else that wasn't dangerous could go sod itself. Or something like that. The crux of it was that Animagi had a very focused sort of thought process, without a lot of room for worries and what-if's. The wolf had said that worrying about tomorrow made today unpleasant, and had left it at that. So when the image of Severus Snape's friend dressed like David Bowie had brought a flush and uncomfortable tightness to Remus, he'd decided to get out of human form to let the wolf worry about it for a while.

There were quite a lot of new scents out in the forest, so Remus calmed down the only way a lone wolf could--chasing small fluffy animals and giving them the scare of their lives.

After about an hour of running about, he paused to mark a tree (he'd tried fighting the canine instincts, but he, Solange, and Yvonne had found their animal brains insisting on some manner of marking territory, and they'd given up the argument. They had compromised with regards to their dormitories, however, by setting up complex and very unambiguous wards). When he was finished, however, he took a sniff at the area. Something smelled odd, like there was something he was missing. He sniffed again, catching several unfamiliar scents lacing the area. He smelled something that a pure wolf would have characterized as prey, another thing that smelled vaguely like the stern woman he'd only met briefly, who Madam Maxime had told him was the Transfigurations teacher. And then another scent that was both maddeningly familiar and hard to place at the same time. It smelled a little like Blackfang, but wasn't any wolf.

"Hello, chylde of the night." Moony froze. The not-bark voice had come from behind him, and he hadn't smelt anything. "Do not worry, chylde," the voice said, still in a voice that seemed preternaturally calm, "I will not harm you if you do not strike first. It is the ancient pact of our races, after all."

There was something in that voice that seemed familiar. Not like pack, but like...kinship. Remus turned, and looked up to see a pale face before the waning light of the moon. His eyes were a sharp red, like blood, and his hair dark, maybe brown or black, but with wolf's eyes it was hard to tell the difference. The man was tall, and would probably be taller than Remus' human form. He was dressed in a pair of well-worn pants, of the type some survivalists wore, and had a belt that carried a surprising variety of items on it. His shirt was dark, but seemed to be earth-colored. He was smiling at Remus, two pointed fangs brushing against his lower lip.

Remus returned to human form and looked up at the man--more of a boy, really--from all fours. He stood, making sure he met the vampire's gaze the entire time. Vampires and werewolves were both strong creatures, and so it would not do to show submission before him.

The vampire nodded at Remus. "I have not known a wolf to run these woods. Only the cat, and the stag, and the dog." He smiled again. "Nor have I known many wolves to submit to their inner spirit when the moon wanes."

"Not known...many?" Remus inquired. "Are you saying there are others?"

The vampire laughed, a high, surprisingly jovial sound. He sat on the outcropping roots of a rather large oak, and gestured for Remus to sit near him. "I've been around a while, chylde of the night. I have seen many things. Back before the wizards stole their knowledge from the world, determined to keep it hidden from the fearful eyes of Muggles, wolves were not the beasts of horror you know them as. They were a part of nature, and to be respected, as all of Her powers. Back then, if a woman were to lie with a wolf, the child born would be wolf as well, master of both worlds, and servant only to the Moon."

"And if a man were to lie with a wolf?" Remus asked.

"What wolf would submit herself to any but wolf? Surely you know, chylde of the night, that only the Alpha may breed. And if the Alpha would not have her, she would be a hunter, proud and ready to fight for the good of the pack. But those times are over, and no children of the Moon, only those like you, chylde to another wolf, one destroyed by vengeful men." The vampire smiled sadly. "The wolves are dying, you know. The Muggles seek to protect their wolves, but only the wizards have the power to revive this race. Some of my kind would object to such a thing, of course, but what are they but bitter recluses musing over their origins?" He suddenly turned to Remus. "I'm sorry; I am rambling, and have forgotten myself. Who are you, wolf?"

"Moony. Remus." Remus wrinkled his brow at his confusion, and the vampire giggled.

"Can barely tell the two apart, eh? An Animagus, are you? You are no natural-born wolf." Remus nodded; it seemed redundant to say that he was a werewolf; the vampire seemed to think 'wolf' meant the same as 'werewolf', anyways. "So, what are you doing here? You are old for a first-year."

"I'm from Beauxbatons. For the Triwizard Tournament." The vampire's left eyebrow rose.

"Impressive. I suppose Dumbledore thinks it'll help. It won't."

Remus glared at the vampire. "What do you mean?"

The vampire shrugged. "Voldemort will still rise. He hopes if he can forge bonds now, the children of today will stop it from fully becoming a nightmare. It has gone on too long to be stopped now." He looked relatively unconcerned.

"Aren't you worried?" Remus asked. The vampire shot him a toothy grin.

"Worried? About what? I've been around longer than all of Voldemort's 'Knights' put together, and I reckon even _he_ wouldn't want to venture inside _my_ mind. You know, Unforgivables don't work on the undead."

"Wh-what?"

The vampire laughed again. "Bet you've heard about those nasties in 'Defense' or whatever you're calling it these days. But think about it. I don't have working nerves; _Crucio_ can't touch me. The undead are immune to charms and other compulsions. And the Killing Curse? Some lad tried that on me a few years back; I got a blinding headache for a week, but _he_ lost three pints of blood." The vampire sat back, smugly. "There's only three things can kill a vampire: fire, sunlight, and immersion in holy water, although the last one doesn't come up much anymore. You're kind's lucky, I think. _You_ at least get to see the sun every once in a while. There was an eclipse I wanted to see some years back, you know. Unlucky about the silver, though. You can take a Killing Curse and get off with only needing a few Aspirin, but someone serves you tea in the wrong service and you have to have your stomach pumped."

"Wait--what?" The vampire gave Remus an incredulous glance.

"You don't _know?_ Your kind's immune to some of the most fearsome spells wizard's have come up with. _Crucio?_ It'll feel like a static shock. I can't imagine you haven't noticed mind-affecting charms don't work on you. And unless a potion contains aconite or silver, you'd probably get off light. Think I heard of a werewolf in Venice who annoyed a Bolgia and drank a liter of belladonna-laced wine without blinking. And, while I certainly wouldn't _test_ it, I've heard stories of people trying to take one of your kind down, and you could take a real beating."

"Look, this is very interesting and all," Remus interrupted, "But I came out here to get some thinking done, and hearing about how I could, theoretically, survive the Killing Curse, isn't helping much."

"Suit yourself," the vampire said. "You want to talk about it?"

Remus shook his head, but neither boy moved for quite some time. Then Remus spoke up. "Do you know...who runs around out here?"

"The dog, the panther, and the stag," the vampire replied. "Spend hours running about. Well, the panther tries to sleep, but you know how dogs are. I try to stay out of their way. Obviously Animagi, and wouldn't take too kindly to me."

"Pardon me, but why are you here? Couldn't you live somewhere just as nice where you weren't this close to a castle full of people who think you're a monster?"

"Well, first of all, not all vampires are brooding loners who like living in dank castles. I always loved camping. Never stopped. People never change, you see, and you find new things in nature all the time. For example, you. Secondly..." He trailed off, looking away from Remus in a distinctly human gesture. He didn't have the blood to do so, but Remus was fairly certain he was doing his best to blush. "If I have to feed anyway, I might as well feed off of pretty girls. And there's some beauties up there."

"You kill--?"

"I don't kill anyone, Moony. Haven't for centuries."

"But everyone knows--" Remus stopped, realization dawning. "Oh."

"Yes. 'Oh.' I don't have to kill anyone, and if done properly, she enjoys it, and a mind wipe later, she thinks it's a bug bite and we both go about our business."

Remus sat there quietly, turning this new information over in his mind. Finally, he asked, "How old are you?"

"I think I've come to the conclusion I'm somewhere in my twenties. I was 19 when I...died, I suppose, is the best word for it. But I've been around so long...I'm a good deal more naive and optimistic than the rest of my kind. I think my father was sort of an idealist amongst vampires. The last time I saw him, he was going to America to get in on the ground floor of the sym-bi-o-tic relationship between human and vampire. You seem to be doing the same thing for yourself. Going to school, no one the wiser, and if anyone asks, you're just an Animagus."

Remus gave a sharp laugh that sounded more like a bark than anything else. "You _are_ naive. You know they force werewolves to register? I don't have a number tattooed on me, but I might as well. Beauxbatons and Hogwarts were the only places that would have me, and even after I leave school, I'll be lucky if anyone will hire me. Not disclosing my lycanthropy is grounds for dismissal, being a lycanthrope is legitimate grounds for dismissal, and running about as a wolf without proper wards is grounds for, and I quote, 'Appropriate measures for securing the safety of Muggle and wizard alike against dangerously rogue werewolves.'"

The vampire mouthed the words a few times, and then looked over at Remus. "You know, I've heard a joke that always confused me, until now. Why don't vampires drink lawyers' blood?"

"Professional courtesy," Remus replied.

"Why do they bother saying unpleasant things if they're going to make it sound...right?"

"You've been around humans longer than I have," Remus shot back. "You explain." They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes, and then Remus looked cautiously over at the vampire. "Can I ask a question?"

"I haven't talked to anyone who'll remember the conversation a week later, and he's being polite about it," the vampire muttered. "Go ahead."

"You've been around for a long time, right?"

"Sure. Longer than Dumbledore, certainly."

"What would you do if you thought someone...liked you?"

"Sorry. Wouldn't work out. I'm incapable of love. Vampires don't have souls, you see."

"Really?" Remus glanced over at the boy, who didn't _look_ like he lacked a soul. "How do you know?"

"Some bloke back in the 1940's proved it. Had a Dementor administer the Kiss to a vampire, lad was still walking about and chatting afterwards, right as rain." The vampire fell silent.

"But that doesn't mean you don't have a--"

"Most churches agree a creature that survives only on the blood of living things cannot have a soul," the vampire said.

"But you said you never kill anyone! That you only take what you need and go about your business!"

"Who am I to argue with Cornelius Fudge? Lad compiled an Official Report to the Department of Beings, arguing that lacking souls, vampires were instead Beasts. So...let's say someone liked me. I'd say, 'thanks but no thanks, I'd rather spend the rest of my unnatural half-like wallowing in lonely misery than have someone I legitimately like being accused of bestiality.'"

Remus wrinkled his nose. "That's a bit harsh, isn't it?"

"It's better if I don't get attached. The same goes for you. You are technically a Magical Beast, you know. I heard this argument back in...oh, let's say 1849. German priest had his congregation stone a woman for falling in love with a werewolf. I remember Leviticus 18:23 being brought up a lot when they were telling her they would save her soul by crushing her under a huge rock. Frankly, I think I'm better off having people not worried about saving my soul."

Remus didn't respond, mulling over the vampire's words. Finally, the vampire poked his ribs. "You all right? I didn't mean to say--oh, Hell, you ought to try to be happy, Remus. Tell the rest of the world to sod itself, and climb into that hand basket with a helmet and a devil-may-care smile."

"You're surprisingly liberal for a centuries-old creature of the night," Remus remarked. "Suppose it comes of being on the wrong side of every theological debate you've gotten into." The vampire nodded. "So, what would you do if you had good reason to believe a boy wanted...you know?"

The vampire's face wrinkled. "Can't say it's my cup of tea, wolf. It's the women for me. However, the fact you're wondering suggests to me you might not be as opposed to the idea as I am." He winked at the werewolf. "I suppose it's one of these Hogwarts boys, otherwise you'd have already dealt with it by now. Let's see...it wouldn't be, well, any of Hufflepuff, they're too timid to come right out and say it. A thoughtful boy like you, could be Ravenclaw, but most of those boys are too indrawn to do much about it. Quentin? No, I thought not." He tilted his head, frowning. "You _are_ quite pretty, in a masculine sort of way. I could almost imagine--but that's ridiculous." His lips puckered in thought, until he finally shrugged. "All right, you've got me. Who is it?"

Remus didn't question the boy's extensive knowledge of the student body; evidently he got more than blood out of the girls he brought down here. "Severus Snape. At least...well, Solange and Yvonne seem to think he was, anyway."

"Ah." The vampire nodded. "It'd make sense, anyway, with the way the students talk about him and Black."

"Black?"

"His best friend, Sirius Black. The two are so close, people have been talking. I wouldn't rest easy knowing that; if the rumors are true, you're going to have the two best duelists at this school out for your head on a silver platter, one for you trying to steal his boyfriend, and the other for you trying to steal his friend's boyfriend."

"You're kidding." Remus slumped back against the tree trunk. "So it's a moot point."

"Never said that," the vampire said. "Just it might be true. You know...watch your back." Remus nodded, feeling a little less confident of himself.

"But what should I do? About...Snape?"

"Tell him how you feel. If you're confused, tell him. It never hurts to let people know the truth. Well, in most cases. But if you like him at all, ask to be friends. See what happens. Let Nature take Her course."

Remus nodded. "I...see. Thank you." He pushed himself off of the tree root, and turned to leave.

"Wait just a moment." Remus paused, turning back to look at the vampire. "Rumor has it Voldemort's looking for people like you. Dark Creatures, oppressed by law and tradition and superstition."

"I've heard that," Remus replied. "What's it to you?"

"Have you ever thought about it?"

"No," Remus snapped. "He's a murderer, and a monster, and I won't have anything to do with him."

"Even if he said he had the cure to lycanthropy?"

Remus' blood felt like ice. The...cure?

"Even if he said he could end the pain, the suffering? If he could stop the pitying, the hateful looks? If he could save you from yourself?"

Remus couldn't read the vampire's expression, and he couldn't smell the vampire, so he had no idea what he might be thinking. But he was certain of one thing. "It wouldn't be worth the cost," he said, and the wolf loped away from that small clearing in the Forbidden Forest.

The vampire watched him leave, a smile on his face. "A man after my own heart, Remus. My old man would have liked you." There was a 'pop', and then a large bat, fluttering rapidly, took to the depths of the forest.

* * *

Continue to part 2.5 


	5. Ch 2:2: Un Coup de Foudre

Title: Entre Chien et Loup (At Dusk)  
Part: 2.5: Un Coup de Foudre  
Author: Ryuu-ACey  
Archive: Azkaban's Lair, wherever (if you ask, I'll probably say yes)  
Summary: Albus Dumbledore revives the Triwizard Tournament in the time of Voldemort's first rising, and sparks fly when werewolf Remus Lupin finds himself snout-to-snout with illegal Animagus Sirius Black, his best friend, and the Tournament itself.  
Spoilers: Er...Through GoF, I think, although there might be bits of OotP.  
Rating: R (language, mature themes)  
Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine. Technically, one of the girls isn't mine. About the only thing in here that's mine are one-and-a-half characters, and the plot. The characters and world belong to JK and Scholastic and...Warner Brothers? I really don't know, but hope they'll be cool about me taking the kids out to play.  
Originally posted: Fanfiction dot net.  
Notes: This started simpler than even the prologue turned out to be. I was thinking about how I've seen fics where Remus is portrayed as French, for some unfathomable reason, and I thought--so what if he went to Beauxbatons? The next thing I know, I've got Sirius making friends with a shy, trying-to-be-uncaring but really adorable 11-year-old Severus Snape, Remus becoming and Animagus, and, for a reason I still don't quite understand, elves (it's not exactly a glaring thing, I hope; they just snuck in there, because, frankly, elves rock. Even Pratchett's elves, which are freaky). So this is an AU. This is a twist-the-world-on-its-edge AU. I hope. And I hope you enjoy.  
About the Title: It's a terrible French pun, because, of course, it literally means "between dog and wolf", but it's an idiom, and I found it irresistible.  
Warnings: Language, discussion of mature themes, (possibly) eventual "action" of some sort.  
Dedications: samvimes, because _Stealing Harry_ made me love the fandom again, and made me want to do something big again.  
Feedback: Always appreciated.

* * *

Time passed rapidly; within a week, the students from Durmstrang arrived, in a large boat that Remus felt should have arrived to Wagner. There were a bit more students than from his year at Hogwarts, and he supposed it made sense, as it served most of eastern Europe, as there were still difficulties between the East and West, so the wizards of Russia and the like sent their children to Durmstrang.

The Durmstrang students were staying close to the Slytherin dungeons, while the Beauxbatons students were in a corridor that met with the path to Gryffindor Tower. So Remus didn't have much chance to speak to Severus, and when he found him in a position to speak to the other boy, he was curt and polite and not at all the enthusiastic person who'd spoken to Remus when he first arrived.

He tried to puzzle it out, but had other concerns, namely classes, and the approach of the Triwizard Tournament. Dumbledore was close-mouthed about it for the next three weeks, leaving the visiting students with time in which to become very nervous. What was taking so long? Was Dumbledore just trying to psyche them out?

Finally, at noon on the 27th of September, Dumbledore stood at his place in the Great Hall, flanked by Madam Maxime and Herr Koldunev. He tapped his wand against the table, creating an unnaturally loud noise that brought the Hall to silence.

"Thank you. I would like to announce that tomorrow night, at lunch, we will announce the House champions who will be competing in the Triwizard Tournament. However, I would like to make sure all students are aware of the rules of entry. First, so that there will be no favoritism in the choosing of Champions, we will be eliciting the help of this--" He waved his wand, and a jewel-encrusted chest appeared in front of him. He swung it open, revealing a large goblet. "The Goblet of Fire."

"Shouldn't it be on fire, then?" Solange asked Remus, who only shrugged. They had taken to sitting with the Slytherins, mostly because he'd tried to sit with Severus a few times, and though he'd failed to get the boy to respond to him with anything other than neutral politeness, he'd gotten used to sitting there, and where he went, the blond half-veela, black-haired elf, and, because of the veela, half of the male population of Hogwarts followed.

Sitting with the Slytherins, at least, kept all but the most persistent boys away.

"It's only metaphorical," Sirius Black responded from across the table. "Really, what'd be the point of calling it a Goblet of Fire just because it--"

Dumbledore tapped the edge of the goblet with his wand, causing flickering green flames to leap from its interior. Sirius, who had been spending much of the past three weeks to catch Solange's attention, fell into embarrassed silence, and Solange giggled. Remus tried very hard not to laugh, because at some level it was just cute how hard he was trying. He saw Solange look at Sirius sometimes with a look of longing, something he thought he understood. If only the boy weren't being affected by her charms...

"All students who wish to participate in the Tournament are to submit their names into the Goblet, and at noon tomorrow, it will choose one participant from each school. To prevent students whose education has not yet brought them to an adequate skill level from competing, I will draw an Age Line around the Goblet, to ensure that no one under the age of 17 is able to enter their name into consideration. Now, please, those students above the age of 17 come with me." He rose, trailed by his two fellow heads of school, and left by the main door of the Hall; most of the students in the Great Hall followed, to see what was happening.

Dumbledore led them to the front hall, and finally to a small door at the top of the main staircase. He opened the door, stepped in, and placed the Goblet of Fire on a pedestal in the windowless room's center. As he walked back out, Remus saw his hair rise, as if in a static field, as the man crossed a green line on the floor.

Then Dumbledore closed the door behind him, turned, and rapped his wand against the door three times. There was a flash of gold light, and a loud 'click', like that of a particularly large lock.

He turned back to the students. "There are allegedly only three tasks to the Triwizard Tournament, but both Olympe, Sasha, and I believed this to be an excellent idea. The Goblet of Fire is locked within this room. Only the cleverest and most resourceful will be able to reach the Goblet, and thus earn their chance at the Triwizard Cup. It is, if you will, the Zeroth Task."

There was a stunned silence following the announcement, and Remus, especially found himself worrying. That meant he had...a little less than 8 hours to figure out how to open the door before the moon rose and he had to get out to his "Appropriately Safe Containment Unit", a run-down old house with a large open area in which, if it became necessary, he could tear and bite at himself if the Change was bad.

Remus thought quickly; it still took him ten to twelve hours to recuperate from the change; it always took something out of him, leaving him drained and unable to think straight, much less move. So if he didn't get it by moonrise, he'd lost his chance at the Cup.

Next to him, Yvonne was muttering to herself, trying to think out the problem by talking. Solange was just staring at the door, as if she could force it to open by will alone.

Remus just thought it over in his head. It couldn't be something that would be opened by _alohomora_, because that's what everyone did. So a more complicated unlocking charm? No, there had to be some trick to it, something that most people wouldn't think of.

* * *

"_Reducto._" The blast ricocheted off of the door, and Solange slumped against the banister. "Well, I'm out of ideas."

"And I'm out of time," Remus muttered. Solange looked up, startled.

"What? It's barely 8 o'...oh." She looked from Remus to the door, frowning. "All right; we'll take this up in the morning--"

"No," Remus said. "You two keep at it. I'm sure if you do, you'll get it. Just tell me when I get back, all right?" He ducked his head and ran for the front door. He knew he wouldn't get into the Tournament. He didn't have the time, anymore. But they should have a chance. Even if it meant...

He'd known the Animagus transformation hadn't fixed his problem. There was something about the moon that made the wolf...more. More energetic. More violent. The presence of other animals-that-were-not-animals seemed to calm a part of him, make the Changes much, much easier.

But the first time he'd Changed without Solange and Yvonne, he'd been shocked. The wolf had torn from him with the brutality it had in the beginning, whether angry at the absence of its pack or for some reason related to its very nature, Remus didn't know. And neither did they. This was his burden, and his alone to bear, no matter how much they wanted to help.

His stomach cramped, and he realized he was running out of time. He darted under the swinging branches of the Whomping Willow, and pressed a certain knot. The tree froze, giving Remus the time to climb through the secret tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack--an aptly-named place, for what would happen there tonight. Remus winced at the thought of it. Solange and Yvonne hadn't missed a Change at school, and they had no way of knowing what was happening. He only hoped they'd forgive him.

He finally pushed through a trap door, and collapsed, wheezing, onto the floorboards of the Shack's interior. He could feel it. He felt the Moon pulling, calling out his bestial nature, calling out his brutality, his anger. She called; he answered.

With the twisting of bone and muscle, and the screaming of flesh and lung, he began to Change.

* * *

Sirius, more than the others, found comfort in his Animagus form. While stags were noble and cats imperturbable, the form of a dog gave one a great deal more freedom. Freedom to bound about, to make noise and make a nuisance of himself. Severus, however, had made it clear that if Sirius used his new-found freedom to stick his nose in other people's crotches, Severus would snap an anti-Animagus collar on him and get him neutered. By _Muggles_. Sirius wasn't entirely certain whether or not Severus could overcome his faint distaste at the way Muggles did things to go through with it, but first, he wasn't going to bet his balls on Severus' squeamishness, and secondly...it didn't make it any _better_ if it were done with magic. The end result was equally unpleasant.

In any case, it surprised no one that Sirius enjoyed taking to the Forbidden Forest as a dog more than the others did their own forms. It was something they did, from time to time, but Sirius could be found out there at least three times a week, if not more. He knew every twist and corner of the place, and recognized the scents of all the centaurs, the unicorns (one mated pair of which had just given birth to a foal), and the sundry beasts that lived there when Sirius wasn't about to be in charge of it.

He supposed there were some things you couldn't quench in a Black, and a sense of superiority to one's surroundings was one of them. There were rumors of vampires in the Forest, but Sirius didn't believe it, or if he did, believed that no creature that ruled the night could stand against a Black, known for rising with the sun and commanding the night.

The point was that this was Sirius' forest. He shared it with Prongs and Nightcat, and when Peter came out with their human forms to make mischief, Peter as well. But Sirius was in charge, and when he caught the scent of an unfamiliar beast in his forest, he bristled, angry at the intrusion. Not, of course, that there was another creature in the forest _now_, but someone was intruding on _his_ domain! Padfoot growled to himself and began examining the scent and the trail it left. The beast had been nearly everywhere, it seemed, except the centaur fields and the unicorn's clearings, and had stopped near one of the larger trees for quite some time. Sirius stopped by that tree, taking his time to learn this scent, figure out what was intruding on his portion of the wilds.

It smelled like dog, only a bit rougher, wilder. There was a moment as Padfoot tried to process this, and Sirius' memory provided the word: wolf.

But wolves didn't live around here, and anyways, wolves didn't wander about by themselves. It was unnatural.

Sirius gave another sniff, a strange, _human_ suspicion forming in his mind.

Of course, he didn't know of any wolves _living_ in the area. But what if one were visiting?

* * *

"_Elendil_." There was a long pause, and Yvonne gave Solange a sharp look. The blond ducked her head, embarrassed. "Sorry; I had to at least try."

"Fine." Yvonne gave the door a speculative kick, but it refused to budge. "I think some kids from Durmstrang got in here during dinner, and they've been by a few times to be smug at us. Um..._Hospes_." She waved her wand, causing nothing to happen. "Damn it! We'll never get in this way!"

"You certainly won't sitting there just throwing spells at it," a sardonic voice said from behind them. Severus Snape stepped from the darkening hallway, pausing before the door. "This requires a more...subtle approach."

He uncorked a bubbling vial of a deep violet potion, releasing a plume of almost black vapor. He carefully wafted it towards the door, and Solange noticed he was holding his breath.

She swore quietly and tried not to breathe.

The vapor brushed against the door, releasing green sparks that increased in intensity and frequency until suddenly the plume of smoke exploded in a brief flare of violet light.

"Subtle?" Yvonne asked Severus. He glared at her, and then turned the angry stare towards the door. "Well, it was certainly interesting. What was that?"

"Concentrate of gorgon's breath," he said.

"Why do you have a vial of that just lying around?" Solange questioned. "It's not exactly safe."

"Exams," Severus replied, in a voice that neither girl could identify as serious or not. Neither, after all, wanted to ask exactly what he meant, anyway.

"So, do you have any other brilliant plans?" Yvonne asked Severus. The black-haired young man shook his head, looking annoyed, probably at not being able to discover the answer for himself.

Solange watched the man, a frown on her face. So this was the boy who was taken with her Remus? This impatient, smart-alecky boy who had seemed smug that he could out-think two girls, only to sulk when he couldn't? She scowled. She certainly wasn't about to stop Remus from making his own choices, but really...he looked like a brooder, and jealous, and like he might--

Solange stared at him, feeling that there was something wrong. Something subtly incorrect about the way he was acting. He had a thick scroll out, and was consulting it, scribbling notes in the corners, as he examined the sturdy wooden door that had, so far, held against most comers.

"What's the Elvish word for 'friend'?" he asked Yvonne. Solange laughed out loud as Yvonne gave him a dark look. He shrugged, looking unconcerned with the glare, and added, "It would be just like Dumbledore to do something like that."

"We've already tried," Solange said. "And either Professor Dumbledore does not have a great love for the works of Tolkein, or it's something very clever we haven't thought of yet."

"It's not clever," Severus replied. "It's something he thinks is funny, and it's going to just aggravate us if we stand here thinking about it. I'm going back to my dorm."

He stormed off into the darkness, leaving the two girls standing in front of the door by themselves. "What do you think would amuse a doddering old man who's running a school for wizards?" Solange finally ventured.

Yvonne walked over to the door and tried to turn the knob. It refused to budge.

"If that had worked, Severus would kill you," Solange said.

"I know," Yvonne said, a slight grin on her face.

* * *

Unlike some people he knew, Sirius had spent quite a lot of time working out how to use the skills of his Animagus form to maximum potency. It seemed ridiculous to waste the ability to track someone by scent alone, or be able to hear sounds too high for human ears to detect.

And despite Severus' thoughts on Sirius using the form to get sympathy, he'd found people felt very much at ease around large, friendly dogs, and that was worth something, wasn't it?

So nearly back to the castle, his human nose, still sensitized from his time as a dog, caught the scent of the wolf, who had passed by recently. Sirius Black had never been able to resist the call of his curiosity (James was fond of saying Sirius ought to have been the panther, as opposed to Severus), so he didn't give a second thought to returning to his doggy form and tracking the wolf's trail to...the base of the Whomping Willow.

The dog let out a snort, as if to challenge the tree, and began dodging in and out of the tree's range, joyously watching the branches miss him by mere inches. _This_ was excitement! He'd have to get Snape out here some time, if only to see his friend actually _use_ his feline reflexes. Severus showed very little willingness to profit from his Animagus form; he had, after all, only joined in on the scheme to keep Sirius and James from blowing themselves up (and if Sirius was being honest, it had only been to keep _Sirius_ from blowing himself up), and viewed the entire endeavor with something bordering on mild distaste.

But nevertheless, Sirius, who loved Padfoot and all he represented, ducked under another swinging branch, low enough to dive through a hole at the base of the tree, from which came the wolf's distinct scent.

It was a long haul, mostly with Padfoot crawling on his belly, so Sirius used that distraction as an excuse for not noticing the smell of blood earlier.

When he did, he was just underneath a heavy trap-door, the other side of which seemed to be harboring either a very angry wolf or a very solid ghost. Neither was an attractive option. Luckily, Sirius didn't believe in the old economic fact that as long as the project wasn't complete, you could always back out, take your losses, and not go into the room filled with angry werewolf.

Similarly luckily, the prejudices planted into the mind of a scion of the Black family were overrode by an instinct older than the Blacks, and that was: when faced with an angry werewolf, sod your ancestry and sod your obvious superiority, and do whatever it takes not to get your throat ripped out.

When Padfoot opened the trap-door, the werewolf's snapping jaws nearly took his ear off. But he dodged to the side, collapsed onto his stomach, and whined submissively, making sure that he was staring very firmly at the wolf's feet. The wolf paused, as if confused. When Sirius refused to run from the wolf, or try to kill it, it took a cautious sniff at Sirius. Sirius didn't move, and tried to keep from shaking. What was it they said about dogs smelling fear? He didn't manage to remember that particular piece of advice, because when the wolf sniffed at his rump, he darted forward, startled. Of course he should have expected that, but still, it was surprising to have someone shoving their nose at your--

The wolf snarled, and nipped at Sirius' tail; Sirius let out a sharp yelp, and then fell still again. The wolf gave him a thorough examination, and finally made an assenting 'huff', even giving Padfoot's tail-tip an apologetic lick. Sirius raised himself cautiously from a completely submissive position, even daring to meet the wolf's sharp golden eyes.

The wolf gave him a long look, and then launched himself at Sirius, knocking the both of them backwards and into a rocking chair. Sirius froze, suddenly realizing how stupid he'd been, going to look at what he _knew_ was a werewolf, during the full moon, and now he'd get his throat torn out, or _worse_...

When his new playmate refused to fight back, the wolf let out a questioning whine, adding a light nip to Padfoot's neck to emphasize it. Sirius looked up at the wolf--the very _attractive_ wolf, the dog part of his brain insisted--warily, slowly beginning to realize that he was not in any immediate danger of being torn apart, but merely of being forced to tussle with a lonely canine. Sirius, inside the playful animal, grinned, and knocked the wolf off of him, then dashed away from the creature, stopping after a few steps and looking back, partially because he certainly didn't mean to actually escape, and another to make sure the wolf knew he wasn't trying to get away, but playing with the wolf back.

The wolf gave a friendly growl and leapt at Sirius, and bowled him over into a pile of shredded mattresses.

* * *

_Warm..._ That was the only thought Remus registered as he drifted from sleep into wakefulness. After last night, he'd collapsed on top of the softest thing he could find and awaited morning, when the school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, would bring him back to the Infirmary to rest. The sun was up, and Remus judged it to be about eight-thirty or so. He snuggled closer to the warmth that pervaded his body. No matter whether Sola and Yvonne were with him during the full moon or not, he always ached afterwards, and had never thought to ask them to let him borrow their body warmth the morning after. It would have felt weird, even after treating them like pack for years, tussling the way pups did--

_The dog, poised over the wolf, nipped at his ear, then backed off quickly, just in case. But Moony only rolled over, sprang to his feet, and chased the dog merrily about the room for ten minutes. When the two collapsed in a dusty, tired heap, Moony gave the dog an affectionate lick across the muzzle, then dropped his head over the dog's back._

Remus started, almost managing to sit up before his muscles reminded him that while _he_ may be up to jerking about like a puppet the night after having his body structure rapidly altered, _twice_, mind you, they were going to lodge a formal protest, one which sent Remus sprawling over the big black dog again.

The dog stirred, turning his head around to glance at Remus. The eyes widened in a comical attempt at getting a dog's face to register a _very_ human sort of shock, and suddenly, Remus was sprawled on top of Sirius Black, who, due to the nature of the Animagus transformation, was clothed, sparing both of them just an ounce of dignity. Sirius scrabbled back, eyes still an amusing width. His mouth was gaping, and that sharp, angled face, which he saw Yvonne staring at, sometimes, looked amusing contorted into an expression of amazement.

"Remus--?" he asked. Remus sighed; he hadn't expected his secret to get out this way. In fact, he'd planned on it not getting out at all. His indiscretion in his first year had turned out well, but he had little faith in the majority of humanity, and, well...the Blacks were a Very Old and Well-Respected Wizarding Family, who probably Didn't Hold With That Sort of Thing.

"I..." Remus tried to find words, tried to find a way to plead with Black, who--

Who was an unregistered Animagus. Black must have seen the surprise in Remus' eyes, because he tightened his jaw, and gave a curt nod. "Yes. For about two years. I...I smelled you, and wanted to find out why there was a _wolf_ in my forest." He flushed. "I don't mind, Remus. Not really. I knew I was with a werewolf, but I hadn't really thought who--I didn't think, really. Given the fact that I followed a werewolf to a small, enclosed space with no windows and expected to survive only proves it." He gave a cocky grin, one that told Remus the other boy was not entirely serious--which of course he was, anyway--and slid closer. "I'm sorry if I surprised you. But you seemed a little lonely up here, and, well...you seemed to take to me." Remus shrugged, trying not to blush. There had been a fierce urging at the back of his mind when the dog--Sirius, had submitted, that Remus had beaten back. "D'you need help? Because I know a few spells that could get us back--"

"Madam Pomfrey will be up in half an hour or so to bring me to the Infirmary," Remus replied, sinking back onto the remains of the mattresses Moony had torn up in the first hour or so. "And you shouldn't be here. If you want to be in the Triwizard Tournament, you'd better get back to that door, unless you've already solved it."

"Oh!" Sirius was up on his feet, moving for the trap-door. "No; I haven't got it. Give us a hint?" he pleaded.

Remus shook his head. "I hadn't got it by moonrise, and...Moony isn't much for thinking. Guess I'm out of the running, now. Too knackered to bring myself over there, much less trying to blast the door open. Seems rude, trying to kick it open without knocking first." Remus seemed slightly loopy, as if he wasn't entirely in control of his own mind. Sirius understood the feeling.

Frowning a little, Sirius opened the trap-door, and vanished. A moment later, his head popped up, and, cheeks a little red, he said, "I had a good time...Moony. I won't tell anyone. But I hope we can do this again sometime." And then he was gone, and the trap-door closed and the only evidence that he had ever been in the room his fading scent.

Remus snuggled into the mattresses, which were still warm, and, to his post-lunar nose, still smelled like Sirius.

* * *

Severus, Solange, and Yvonne were all standing at the door when Sirius arrived, the girls looking suspiciously at Severus, who was glaring at them.

Sirius climbed the stairs three at a time, pausing by the door to look between the three students. "What's going on here?"

Neither party answered, so he shrugged, deciding to let it go. "So, anyone figure it out yet?"

"James and Peter just got out," Severus growled, "And refused to tell us how they did it. Probably something showy, just like a Gryffindor."

_Showy. Clever._ Sirius glanced at the door for a very long moment. Then, feeling very silly, and ready for any amount of mocking if it didn't work, knocked lightly at the door with his fist. "May I come in?" he asked, aware that he was addressing a door and not--

The door swung open, almost smugly.

"I'm going to kill Albus Dumbledore," Solange muttered, stalking through the door. Yvonne, a smirk on her face, followed. Severus followed, his face carefully neutral. Sirius fell in beside him.

"Where were you last night? You never came back to the dorm, and Rosier tried to claim you were with one of the Durmstrang girls in the Astronomy Tower."

Sirius snorted. He may have had a reputation, but he wasn't about to jump in with a girl he'd met less than a _month_ ago. "I went out for a walk."

"By yourself?" Severus demanded, quieter. "You know we agreed it was too dangerous--"

"If there's anything in the forest I can't handle, it wouldn't be any better if either of the two of you, or, god forbid, Peter, was with me." Severus fell silent; partially, this was because it was true. The other part of it was probably he didn't want to get into an argument over the wisdom of wandering the Forbidden Forest in the form of a very large dog with two non-Animagi, girls who probably would be hard to keep silent on the whole illegal spell-casting...thing.

Solange and Yvonne had tossed their papers into the Goblet; the blond girl was staring into it, fascinated by whatever its inner workings were. Severus nudged her aside (as opposed to his usual shove when someone was in his way) and dropped his own name, scribbled on a piece of parchment, into the flaming cup. Sirius stepped up and dropped his own in. The girls were already gone, their interest in the Goblet waning when Severus came, and Severus was halfway out the door when Sirius paused. He looked back at the Goblet, and then at Severus, who raised one eyebrow, wondering what was going on.

"Go on ahead, Snape. I'll just be a moment." Severus shrugged, and left the room, the door closing after him. Sirius turned back to the Goblet, rummaging through his pockets.

* * *

Remus sighed as he slumped into a seat at the Slytherin table. Solange, sitting to his right, tugged him sideways so he was leaning on her, but not so that it was noticeable.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Why are you even here, Moony?" Yvonne asked. "You told us you couldn't get in."

"It's part of the ceremony," Remus said. He glanced up at Dumbledore, who was sitting very neatly behind the Goblet, Madam Maxime to his right and Herr Koldunev to his left. Dumbledore looked down at him, and winked. Remus resisted the urge to growl. If only it hadn't been a full moon, he was sure he'd have figured it out. He wondered if a decision had been made, unofficially, but still there, to keep the werewolf from participating. Madam Maxime wouldn't have stood for it, possibly explaining why he'd even had a shot at being the Beauxbatons champion.

Severus was sitting across from him, Sirius sitting next to him. Sirius was watching Dumbledore, in anticipation of the announcement, black eyes bright. Remus tried not to watch him, but memories of last night kept intruding on his consciousness, and he found himself fascinated with the boy who'd so simply and joyfully joined the werewolf in play, who'd unselfconsciously slept against the wolf, knowing that in the morning, the wolf would be a boy his own age, snuggling against warmth and black fur.

It didn't help that Moony seemed quite taken with the dog that was Sirius' other half. At least the wolf had the propriety to be a little embarrassed about it, but only because Sirius was a dog, and not a proper wolf, or even a pretend-wolf, like Yvonne.

Finally, Dumbledore stood, and the hall fell silent, students watching him with eagerness in their eyes. This was the beginning of a year-long event that, according to _Hogwarts, a History_, had the potential to be fraught with danger. Never underestimate the appeal of something that's fraught, Remus thought, amused.

"Now had come the time when the Goblet will choose our champions. I would like you all to understand that the qualities sought in a champion were decided centuries ago, and the Goblet, immune to all tampering, has decided the appropriate students among the candidates independently of any outside influence. So, if we will begin..." The Goblet began sputtering, and after a few seconds of this, spat a piece of parchment into the air. Herr Koldunev snaked his hand out to catch it.

He peered at the parchment for a moment, and the looked up at the assembled students. "For Durmstrang: Igor Karkaroff." Severus sat up straight, eyes darting around the Great Hall. Sirius looked at the boy next to him, almost grinning. Then the Goblet sputtered again, and this time, Dumbledore caught the parchment.

"For Hogwarts: Sirius Black." Remus didn't try to hide his grin; a man who'd mastered the Animagus transformation before leaving school must have the talent to trounce the competition. He wondered if that meant Solange or Yvonne would be the Beauxbatons champion. The Goblet began sputtering again, but the sparks leapt from its rim for a much longer time before it let out a distinctly unsatisfied 'splurt', and spat a piece of paper out onto the table in front of Madam Maxime.

She looked down at the paper, and Remus could see a strange combination of shock and joy wash over her face. She lifted it up, waving it about like a pennant. "Pour Beauxbatons: Remus Lupin."

Remus' mouth dropped open as Solange elbowed him sharply in the side, muttering that if he hadn't wanted to help them, he could've _said_. He hadn't gotten to the door in time; he'd barely gotten to _lunch_ on time. And that could only mean someone else must have submitted his name. Someone who knew that he hadn't the time.

He turned his gaze down, away from the High Table, to meet Sirius' brilliant grin. Sirius' grin, if possible, grew a little wider, and he gave Remus a small wave.

That...Remus' mind failed him, as it rarely did, finding no appropriate word to describe what had just happened.

"Remus? Remus; they're sending the Champions to have their wands inspected by Ollivander." Remus glanced at Yvonne, who was giving him a concerned look. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," he managed to murmur, as he stumbled up the stage, to be crowded into a small room after Sirius, who looked inordinately pleased with himself, and Remus was warring between the urge to kiss him and punch him.

The wolf, for whom playful fighting _was_ a form of affection, could care one way or the other, as long as Remus did something.

He settled for fainting, collapsing on the floor of a room containing, thankfully, only three other people. Before he slipped into unconsciousness, he heard someone, probably himself, say, "Oh, bugger."

* * *

Author's Notes: Not much to say, except to half-bitch that I've added another original character without meaning to. Also, you will note the rating has changed. This is because I view some of the topics of discussion are bordering on more than just "teen" stuff. Also, I have plans that may or may not necessitate having an 'M' rating in the future, and would like to be in the habit now. Also, you can probably expect the next part no earlier than the 23rd, for the same reason most of you aren't going to be reading _fan_fiction this weekend. Anyhoo...

To my readers:  
**Dagger IX1**: Thanks for the input; I really did try to make things believable, so I'm glad it comes across well.  
**Boredom is my middle name**: It's hard not to have a crush on Remus, eh?  
**dedetomkiewicz**: Really, giving away something like that? I can tell you, though, I am cross-posting it on the SBRL mailing list, so there's a strong bias (but no guarantee; all I have to do to post something there is to make sure it's mostly about the puppies and their interactions, even if there's another pairing). So you could make a guess, and I'm not telling whether you're right or wrong.  
**embersandenvelopes**: Glad you're enjoying it, and very happy I have the time to work on it.  
**Tsuki no lomelinde**: Thanks and glad people are willing to look around for it.

Anyway, will see you next time! (And don't be shocked if the next part _does_ get out earlier; I'm not the best judge of how long my projects take). 


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